


Spidey Senses

by Antopops



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Drugs, Fighting, M/M, Multi, Spiderman AU, Underage Drinking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antopops/pseuds/Antopops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically Spiderman AU with Jean and Marco being the whole Peter Parker/Gwen Stacy part of it. </p><p>Jean's a smartass introvert with a camera and Marco is the dashing, humble pie baking football hero. Jean's life changes forever and he has to suddenly apply "with great power comes great responsibility" to his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by johannathemad's spidey AU drawings from tumblr (found here: http://johannathemad.tumblr.com/tagged/spidey-au)

I try my best to just avoid eye contact with everyone. Honestly, it’s easier that way. My temper has gotten me in plenty of trouble in the past and I’m sure if I were to confront people as often as I wanted, I’d be dead. Walking through the halls in high school seems like a super easy task, but in reality it’s really fucking scary. Hundreds of kids walking past you, most without a care in the world, and when it’s put like that honestly who could give a fuck? Fact of the matter is, people like me, the silent yet violent types or just introverts in general fear the possibility of having to actually talk to someone. That is, if they were ever to notice you in the first place.

I hastily filled out my field trip form for physics that I had neglected to complete the night before in front of my locker. Not like it was my fault though; my Nanna needed a ride to the community center to participate in some potluck. It sounds like the most cliche thing ever but it was true, plus the community center is a good hour and a half away from our apartment. Add that up to and from, I spent close to 3 hours in the car. For a potluck.

I frowned at the thought and focused on scribbling my address down for the sake of not getting hammered by my physics teacher. From down the hall I heard obnoxious laughter echo off the walls, and myself along with everyone else turned to see the majority of the football team prancing through the halls jumping on one another.

The most prominent in the group at the moment was Eren Jaeger, some kid who started here his Sophomore year and needless to say he and I got along as well as a cat and water. The kid practically begged to be punched in the gut with half the shit that came spewing from his mouth, and I was happy to oblige when the opportunity showed itself.

Following behind was Reiner Braun, the literal definition of a jock and a douche morphed into one abnormally buff, blonde haired senior. Next to him was the actual building Bertholdt Fubar, a nice enough seeming guy but he was so nervous he made everyone uncomfortable. Not his fault that he seemed to sweat at least a gallon of body fluid daily (gross, I know).

Laughing softly to himself off to the side was Marco Bodt. Better known as “Freckled Jesus” around campus since he seemed to be the most skilled with scoring touchdowns. He’d gotten the MVP award on the team two years in a row and was was too humble about it to even seem human. Every girl around school was all over him, however he’d remained single for the past year and a half.

Before I had the chance to realize I was staring, he planted his eyes on mine, still smiling. I tensed up and spun back to my form, finishing filling it out by forging my grandma’s signature. I ignored the burning sensation I felt on the tips of my ears and pushed my glasses farther up, pulling my beanie down to hide my ears. I kept my gaze concentrated on my pen while the team strode by still laughing their asses off at whatever. When I was sure they were gone, I shoved my notebook back in my bag and slammed my locker closed, turned and collided right into a rather solid chest.

Lucky for me, I stayed on my feet and was only dazed for a second before I realized some asshole was smart enough to stand in my way. I scowled up at the unfamiliar face before I realized it was the renowned Marco Bodt looking down at me. I blinked and my frown faltered for a moment before I felt my ears heating up again and looked away.

“Sorry.” was all I said before I moved to walk around him. _Don’t look at him, don’t make eye contact, just keep walking-_

“Wait, please, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to have you run into me like that. I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk. You’re in Mr. Shadis’ physics class right?” I turned around slowly and saw he was smiling again. _How is he so cheery?_

I was reluctant with answering him since I’d never spoken to the guy before. Yeah, I had physics with him. I’d also had at least three classes with him every year following up to now. Why point out one class finally after three years of never talking to one another?

“Yeah, I am.” I averted my eyes to my shoes and swallowed my snarky comment. _Shit, of all days to speak up, he picks a month before graduation? What the fuck is with this guy?_

“I thought so, I’ve seen you around. You’re kinda quiet though, so I never knew whether to talk to you or not.” He smiled again so easily it seemed like second nature to him. It only made me want to beat with him into a hole with my skateboard.

“Yeah well, I’m not one to strike up conversations for fun.” I shrugged to further prove my point that I didn’t care about where this conversation was going. In all honesty I didn’t know how much longer my beanie would hold up before my ears burned holes through them.

“Right,” he seemed to take this into account but continued anyways. “And look, I know I’ve never spoken to you before but do you think that maybe you and I could-”

The bell rang, and I thanked all the stars in the sky for that moment of pure coincidence. I sighed a little and gave him a half assed smile before heading straight for first period. He seemed confused for a second before attempting to follow after me, calling out “Wait!” and “Hang on!”, but the crowd swept him away and I swerved through the clusterfuck of bodies with ease.

Mr. Shadis was already gathering the field trip forms when I reached the class, and was in the middle of informing everyone about the schedule we’d gone over at least a hundred times. He snatched my form from my hands and put it in an envelope and I went to stand in the back corner of the room. I pulled out my camera as he talked and cleaned off the lense. Hannah from the Photography Club had asked me to take pictures while on the trip for the school paper so I’d brought it with me.

Once everyone had turned in their paperwork Mr. Shadis lead the class to the busses outside and began taking role as they boarded. I saluted him as I climbed on, which earned me a glare and a scratch of his chin, which was his mellow way of showing he wanted to mow you down on the freeway.

Everyone boarded and Mr. Shadis stood up and scratched at his beard again before he started to speak. “Everyone listen up. Going on field trips like this is a privilege, and like other privileges, it can be revoked. I want all of you to behave yourselves and pay attention during the tour. The Survey Corporation is a distinguished business known all over the world, and the last thing I need is a bunch of teenagers trashing the place and causing trouble.”

Mocking tones were heard from the back of the bus, and Mr. Shadis waved his hand as if to say ‘fuck it’ and told the bus driver to get going. The ride there took about forty-five minutes, and truthfully I didn’t know how to pass said time. I stared out the window for the majority of the drive there, until a little more than halfway through the ride something hit me upside my head.

I spun around to see Eren Jaeger in the back with his clique cackling maniacally at having thrown some torn up magazine at me. I glowered over at him and flung the magazine back at him, quick enough that he didn’t see it coming and it hit him in his face. He look stunned for a moment before realizing I’d just bested him at his own game, and shot up and headed straight for me.

I’m embarrassed to say that once he grabbed the collar of my shirt, I flinched away. But when I felt no impact, I looked up to see who else but Marco gripping Eren’s arm. For a moment, it was just a Bodt vs. Jaeger staredown, until Mr. Shadis realized what was happening and started yelling from the front of the bus.

“That’s strike one for you Jaeger! Anything like that happens inside the building and you’re suspended for a week, you hear!?”

“You’ll pay for that, Kirschstein.” he snarled at me.

“Oh fuck off, Jaeger.” I said it more to myself than to him but he heard me nonetheless. He scowled at me before returning to his seat in the back of the bus, leaving just Marco standing by my seat.

He seemed to be struggling with words, so I reluctantly mumbled a “Thanks” at my lap. He smiled softly and rubbed the back of his neck before turning and going back to an enraged Eren.

Thankfully for me, we got to The Survey Corporation building within the next thirty minutes of the Eren incident. I could practically feel his glare burning into the back of my head after he’d gotten called out on, but I avoided turning around to check. I made sure when Mr. Shadis called for everyone to get off the bus that I got out so more people would be between me and Jaeger.

The building was huge. It towered overhead and had to be at least 100 stories tall. I quickly snapped a picture while everyone scrambled to get inside out of the muggy heat.

“Kirschtein, we’re moving, pick up your feet.” I looked through the lens to see Mr. Shadis gesturing wildly at me to get inside. Pretty sure I only moved as fast as I did because I was concerned he’d have a stroke from the heat.

When I got inside there was some perky lady with goggles on explaining to everyone the general gist of the facility. I’d missed most of what she’d said and since she was speaking fast and practically in tongues I was glad I hadn’t had to sit through it. Through the corner of my eye I saw Marco inching his way through the crowd either to listen better out of interest, or simply because I was standing nearby. Both made me uncomfortable.

“Oh and I’m Hanji! I won’t give you kids the specifics on what to call me, I’m sure you’re all just excited to see the research.” She patted her stomach and started forward to take everyone through. I waited for everyone to move out so I could snap a picture of the main lobby interior. It was pretty cool I had to admit. Looked very futuristic with all the shiny desks and light streaming through.

“What’s with the camera?” I nearly dropped the damn thing at having been snuck up on and scowled at who other, than Marco.

“I uhm.. I had to take pictures. For the uh, Photography Club.” I mumbled. I nervously itched my nose and pushed my glasses up further on my face, keeping my eyes trained at the floor.

“Sounds neat! Mind if I stick with you for the tour? I don’t want to get pulled into Eren’s mess if he ends up breaking something.” I warily glanced up at him and realized that he was in fact taller than I was. About an inch, maybe. He was also covered in freckles, but not in an unbearable way. His eyes were a deep brown, and I soon realized they were staring right back at me.

“O-Oh! Yeah I guess. I don’t care, do what you want.” Shrugging, I followed after the group and used my headstart to find the ability to breath again. _Keep it together Kirschtein, why are you letting this kid get to you? Just take the pictures and ignore him. Break away when you get the chance._

That statement didn’t even begin to cover how many chances I had. But no matter how hard I tried to evade Marco, he kept finding me again. First he found me during our snack break while I was in the bathroom, then he followed me out to the side exit so I could take more pictures outside the building, and then he went as far as to request to eat lunch with me. It wasn’t unbearable, just weird. I’d never spoken to the kid before, what does one do when put in a situation like that.

Finally. _Finally_ , Hanji gathered everyone up in a group and started lecturing. I looked over to Mr. Shadis and flashed him my club badge, wordlessly asking to take pictures. He nodded and shooed me off before anyone noticed.

Looking around, the hallways connecting the building were real extravagant. They arched up into domes at the top and had, not chandeliers, but some kind of real fancy light system going on. I brought my camera up and focused it in, taking the picture before any employee could see me or question me.

I’ll be honest, I didn’t know how far I’d strayed from the group or how long I’d been gone. I only knew I had to be back at the bus by three and it was already 1:35. _Shit, I missed the lunch break…_ I couldn’t help but think of Marco in that moment, remembering that he’d asked to eat with me. Not that I could, I hadn’t brought a lunch, but still the thought stuck with me. _No, remember your priorities Jean. Take pictures, ignore people, go home._

Eventually the light from outside stopped shining through the glass walls and I realized I was in the laboratory part of the building. _Am I even allowed back here…?_ I wasn’t sure a Photography Club badge would indicate any form of ID or allow entry. The farthest door down at the end of the hall began beeping and making loud noises, so being the shithead I was, I hid. In the event I’d get caught, I’d look even more guilty but I still hid. The door finally opened silently, and three guys in lab coats sauntered out and made a left down the corridor, laughing as they went.

This is the part where I tell myself that I’m an idiot for even considering what I’m thinking. But of course, I’m Jean Kirschtein. Seventeen year old, mediocre photographer who excelled at skateboarding, but not common sense.

So I ran for it. Lucky for me the door closed slower than anything I’d ever witnessed in my life. When I reached it, I had enough time to stick my foot in the door frame, stopping it from closing all the way. I let out a sigh of relief and picked up my camera.

When the door shut behind me it hissed and eventually made a noise that I registered as it locking behind me.

“Photography Club better be worth this…” I muttered to myself. The entire room was emitting a purple glow, but only in the center of the room. There was a large, metal box looking shape in the middle of the light source, so I looked at it through my camera lens and took a picture while I was at it. I moved the rubber tarps out of the way as I slowly neared the box. Suddenly it felt a lot hotter in here. I moved my face closer to peer inside the weird contraption and reached out to touch it, deciding against it last minute. It took me a second to realize that the box was _moving_.

Well, not the box itself, but whatever was in the box was moving. They looked like millions of tiny...spiders? Gross. I’d never had a problem with spiders as long as they were fifty feet away in the other direction. Flipping on the flash, I got the shot as clear as I could and took the shot.

Everything. Froze.

The spiders stopped moving, the fan stopped spinning. Pretty sure I stopped breathing to make sure I wasn’t going to get obliterated. There was a loud bang from up above, and I dropped the camera suddenly. I could tell from the following noises that it was the air conditioner kicking back in. The spiders suddenly started moving again, clambering over one another to do their spider duties. As if nothing had ever just happened.

Freaked out as I was, I decided to get the hell out of there. Checking my watch it was 2:00 now and I had to be back with the group by 3 to board the buses. I snatched the camera off the ground and after a minute of fondling, figured out how to open the 5 foot thick door. Thankfully no one was around to see me leave, which I thanked all that was good and holy for.

Retracing my steps ended up being pretty easy, and before I knew it I saw the class on the second floor finishing up the last section of the tour. I scrambled up the stairs best I could without bringing any eyes to me, and merged towards the back with Mr. Shadis.

“Any chance you can get me a Photography Club badge next time?” he whispered. When I glanced over at him he looked ready to throw himself off the second story balcony, and I snorted. Apparently this trip was part of the curricula and Mr. Shadis would have rather walked through traffic than take this years graduating class to the “fancy-company-that-did-everything-for-the-city”. At least, that’s how he’d described it.

“Well, thats all for today! I’m sorry that’s all the time we had, otherwise I could have taken everyone into the east wing of the building. It’s eerie back there but there’s a cool generator that runs on food oils. Anywho, hope to see some of you back here!” she waved as everyone dispersed back into their groups. I turned to head back for the stairs, but bumped into a solid form. What was up with me crashing into people lately? Staring up, it was Reiner with Eren next to him.

“You got special treatment of something, Kirschtein?” Reiner asked.

“Special treatment…?”

“Yeah,” he plucked the Photography Club badge off my shirt and flicked it. “Special treatment. As in skipping out on the educational lecture. You don’t learn anything by not showing up to class.”

Eren snickered and nodded, crossing his feet as he leaned against a pillar. “Yup. maybe we should give him a refresher, pull him aside and tell him what he missed.”

Before it went any further than that, the badge Reiner had been holding over his shoulder was stolen from his fingertips and put in my hand. “Really guys? Don’t you ever take a break from being rude?” Marco sighed, exasperated at what his friends were up to.

“Well you don’t always have to show up and ruin the entertainment.” said Eren teasingly, however he was glaring daggers at Marco.

“Yeah yeah, well. What can I say, I’m a party pooper.” he shrugged and looked back to me. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” I said with more conviction than I had originally thought I was capable of. Honestly I was getting tired of Marco playing hero for me.

“Good. Would you mind taking a picture of us then? Stick it in the yearbook somewhere.” he smiled shyly and rubbed the back of his neck. Any excuse to talk to me, I was starting to realize.

“Sure, no problem.” The three guys huddled together by the railing, smirking at the camera while I adjusted the lens. I steadied it on my nose and brought my finger down to take the picture, but was met with an unsettling sting on my finger. Wincing, I brought the camera away from my face and looked down. Nothing, just the camera.

“Everything alright over there, picture boy?” Reiner called out. Ignoring his statement, I repeated the original process and took the picture.

All three boys scurried down the stairs, Marco stopping near the bottom and turned to give me a little wave before jumping down the rest. I looked back at the top of my camera and looked it over. Once again, nothing was there. But on my fingertip I noticed a bright red blotchy spot.

I squinted and realized immediately it was a bite of some sort. My mind jumped to the box full of spiders in the sealed off purple room. _No, they were all locked up. You didn’t touch the box, you only looked and took a picture. Nothing out of the ordinary. Get a hold of yourself Jean._

I snagged a napkin off a nearby table and wrapped it around the bite, then stuffed my hand in my hoodie pockets. Letting out a shaky breath, I hurried down the stairs and beelined for the bus. My breath hitched in my throat while heading for my seat, and I threw myself down into the chair and pulled up my hood to drown out the chatter; chatter that was seemingly getting louder and more bothersome. I wiped a bead of sweat away and closed my eyes, hoping whatever was happening would go away with sleep.

I did, rather easily, pass out. The voices in the bus had dulled into a low murmur, leaving me to hear my heart pounding in my head violently. I moaned and pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders, willing myself to fall back asleep if it meant not dealing with the pain in my head. I drifted in and out of consciousness, my nails digging into the fabric of my jeans. The pain seemed to getting worse, and it seemed endless.

Behind me, Eren and the others were howling with laughter, and I felt one of them put a hand on my shoulder.

“Yo, Kirschtein. Wake the fuck up, it’s time to go.” Reiner shoved Eren forward, and more banter ensued. I did my best to sit up and gather my things as normal as possible. My hands were shaking and my head was throbbing. I wasn’t sure if it was sweat beading down the side of my face or maybe tears? What I did know was my head was aching something _awful_. Another hand touched my shoulder as I started to stand.

“Jean, are you alright?” Marco peered down at me, worry playing on his expression. “Oh my god, you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” I rasped out sarcastically. It even hurt to talk.

“I didn’t mean-” he started, but I cut him off by standing to leave and nearly collapsing to my knees. “Jean!”

“‘m fine…” I started, but Marco’s strong arms lifted me and sat me back in the bus seat.

“Stay here, I’m going to get Mr. Shadis.” He turned to go but my hand shot up and grabbed the hem of his letterman jacket. Pain shot through me at the quick movement but I held on anyways. He stilled and looked back at me, his eyes wide with surprise. “Jean?”

“No. I’ll go home.” I stood again, this time using the back of the bus seat to steady me. “I’m fine.” This time I spoke with more conviction.

“Jean, please, at least let me drive you.”

Opening my mouth to protest, I was cut off when I looked at him. He looked… genuinely concerned. _Why_ , I thought to myself. He’d never spoken to me before today, not to mention he was practically a mindless puppy dog throughout the field trip. His big brown eyes held a kind of desperation that made me feel guilty for wanting to refuse him.

“...Fine.” He practically sighed with relief at hearing that and put his hand on the small of my back to guide me out of the bus. Despite my condition I felt my face heat up at the feeling of his hand so low. I bit the bullet and allowed myself to be ushered out of the bus. Albeit slowly and painfully.

Eren and Reiner had already left, and Mr. Shadis was talking with two other students. Marco called over to him and said he was leaving with me, and the old guy just waved him off. Typically I rode my skateboard home, the distance wasn’t too bad. Plus I liked the routine of getting from my crappy apartment to school in the morning; the sound of the taxi’s honking at one another and the smell of coffee and stale piss in the air was practically home to me now.

Marco’s car made me want to cry, to be frank. It was a black, 1965 Mustang. It was in pristine condition, and I wondered for a moment how someone like Marco had enough time or _money_ to have and maintain a car like this. He walked around to the passenger side door and pulled it open, gesturing inside.

“You don’t need to hover so much.” I grumbled at him as I slid into his… terribly nice smelling car. Was that cinnamon?

He slid into the driver's seat and spoke as he started the car. “I know, sorry. But you really don’t look good Jean.” He looked at me again and furrowed his brow. “Did you eat something weird at the Survey Corp. building?”

“I didn’t eat anything.”

He frowned. “That’s not much better. You have medicine at home?” I nodded. “Good. Just give me directions as we go.”

I was silent for the majority of the drive, giving as good directions as I could with my head pounding and heart racing. Marco seemed to be a good driver if I overlooked his stop-and-go relationship with the brakes. And his hand flying up to hold me back at every intersection.

Finally he reached my apartment complex. Putting the car into park, he started to unbuckle his seatbelt and reached for the door when I stopped him.

“Thanks for the ride. I’m good from here.”

“Jean you were practically fainting in the bus, I don’t think-”

“I’m fine,” I snapped. His gaze fell to his lap and I mentally punched myself. I was such an ass. “Really, I’m fine. I just got car sick, but I’m fine now. Thank you for the ride.”

“At least text me when you’re inside and let me know that you’re _still_ okay.” He was clearly skeptical.

“I-I don’t…” _Shit, what was he thinking?_ “I don’t have your number.” Marco quickly pulled out a piece of scratch paper and scribbled his number down with the pen stashed in his console.

“Take care, Jean.”

I only nodded in response. Resisting the urge to slam the door and possibly damage the beautiful, beautiful car I’d had the privilege of riding in, I gently closed it and gave Marco a brief wave before turning my back. I scanned my entry card and didn’t look back as the door closed behind me. I could still hear the idle running of the car as I walked away.

The seven floor trip up in the elevator was agonizing. At one point it seemed like the small room was closing in on me and I had to shut my eyes and will myself to calm down. Apparently holding it together with Marco around had only urged my body to try to kill me more. Finally the doors opened and I sprinted down the hall with as much stability as I could muster.

Nanna was already brewing stew with the leftover turkey from her potluck at the community center. Her back was to me when I passed the entryway to the kitchen, and instead of saying hi, I bolted up to my room.

The second the door slammed behind me I was yanking my shirt over my head. I was sweating, my beanie was covered in sweat. I could feel the heat rolling off me in waves and I could not just _cool off_. My glasses slipped off my face and onto my dresser as I leaned over to catch my balance. My head was swimming with pain and I snatched the Advil container off the counter, downing 5 of the tiny pills. I collapsed on my bed, willing myself to fall asleep if it’d mean not hurting all over like this. My hand throbbed in synch with my head and I tried to make out the tiny spider bite on the tip of my index finger.

To no avail. My eyes felt heavy suddenly and all I was hearing once again was my heart beating like crazy. Completely and utterly exhausted, I gave in. The last thing on my mind before I passed out was how big an asshole I was for having forgotten to text Marco.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after gets shittier and shittier

When I finally woke up, I was on the floor. The blankets were tangled around my ankles and my face was pressed into a math textbook. Slowly, I groaned and sat up, peeling my cheek from the sticky book cover. Everything was bleary, and I could tell the sun was just starting to rise from the light hitting the wall. _What the hell happened?_ This felt like a bizarre hangover that wasn’t fully setting in yet.

I heard footsteps coming down the hallway and recognized the smell of lavender right away. As swiftly as I could I jumped up and threw my door open just as Nanna’s hand was lifting to knock.

“Jean? Are you okay?” Her glasses made her blue eyes look huge, and she blinked at me.

“Uh. Yeah. Yes! I’m fine. How are you?” Everything was coming back to me from the day before, making my body break out in hives. My question only made her narrow her eyes at me and cross her arms.

“Jean, what are you hiding?”

“I-I’m not! Hiding anything, I mean. I swear it’s nothing Nanna, I just don’t feel great is all.” _Please buy it, please believe me._

She scanned my 5’9” stature and raised an eyebrow at me. “Did you sleep in your jeans?”

Looking down I remembered I had. After yanking off my shirt I’d completely given up stripping anymore clothing. Nothing to be guilty of, right? “Yes.”

Her eyes were thin slits at this point and she frowned. “Are you… high?”

“Whoa, what?! Nanna c’mon, no I’m not. I promise, stop interrogating me!” My hands were held up defensively and I’d backed up into my room a step. She didn’t look convinced all that much, but it was typical for her to be questioning of me. She was a helicopter parent; she hovered a lot.

Finally, she relented. She uncrossed her arms and patted the floral apron she was wearing, flour exploding off the fabric. “Alrighty then, come downstairs for breakfast when you’re ready. I made scones.” She hobbled down the hallway and disappeared back into the kitchen.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and shuffled over to my dresser. My glasses were wedged between a pile of folded laundry and a pile of books. When I fished them out and put them on, I had to stop. _The fuck…?_ It was blurry as hell. I took them off and blinked a few times, realizing I could actually see. I’d had glasses for seven years, what the hell was happening? As if the problem had fixed itself by being confused, I put them on again. I couldn’t see shit.

“What…” I looked around. Maybe these weren’t my glasses? _Who's fucking glasses would they be dipshit?_

I reluctantly put them down and moved to throw on a t-shirt. I snatched my phone off the floor and shoved it in my pocket, then headed to the kitchen for scones.

“By the way kiddo, I’ll be out later. Rida wanted to go to Joann's and I’m not looking to pass that up.” Nanna laughed to herself and kept wiping down pans in the sink. Joann’s… as in Joann’s Fabrics? Old people got excited over such lame stuff.

I picked up a scone and bit into it as I spoke. “I might go out later. Dunno.” Crumbs flew from my mouth and Nanna’s head whipped around.

“Use your table manners young man. Chew with your mouth shut.”

Reluctantly I finished off the dry pastry and dug around in my jeans. Marco’s number was still in my pocket, and I figured I might as well tell him I was fine. As a courtesy, mostly.

_hi marco, its jean. im okay. thanks for yesterday i guess._

Short and simple. I clicked send and stood up. “I’m going to the skate park.”

Nanna grunted in response, calling out “Wear your helmet!” before I was out the door with my board tucked under my arm.

The taxi horns blaring throughout the city were welcomed as I made my way through the rush hour crowd on the sidewalk. It was only 10:30 but streets were practically always jam packed with people.

I was about halfway to the park when I felt my phone go off once again. I had the courtesy to get out of the middle of the sidewalk before I answered.

“Hello?”

“Jean! It’s Marco.” _Oh for fucks sake._

“Yeah… hey. Why are you calling?” I so was not up for this right now.

I heard him clear his throat on the other end. “I wanted to check in. Your text this morning was really vague.”

I chewed my lip thoughtfully, watching people pass. I must have kept quiet for a while when he spoke up again. “Jean? Are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck as I continued. “Look, I appreciate it Marco. But this is a little weird for me.”

“Weird? What’s weird?” _Man this kid’s dense._

“You talkin' to me suddenly. I mean, no offense but we never existed to each other until yesterday it seems.”

“That’s not true!” Shit. He let out a shaky breath. “I know it might be strange but I’ve always known you were around. I dunno, I guess I wanted to try being friends. Maybe. I don’t know.” He was adding the ‘I dunno’ because he was nervous, I could tell. But it only begged the question for me; why?

“I just don’t understand why. We’re graduating in literally a month Marco.”

He laughed. “Do you think making new friends has a time limit?”

“No, like I said. It’s just weird.”

“Well tell you what, it might be weird, but can we still try?”

Allow me to point out how incredibly bad I actually _was_ at making friends. I had one friend. Armin. He was a smart kid, I’d known him for about two years. And even our friendship was more like a wave here and there from him and an acknowledging head nod from me. Marco was way different than Armin. He was popular, and on the football team, and not socially awkward.

“I…” Trailing off, my eyes locked with a pair of steely grey ones about twenty feet away. It was some guy in a black suit, though it had to have been tailored for him because he was so short. His black hair was blowing into his face from the wind, but he still watched me intently. There were two other guys behind him, also looking in my direction.

“Jean?” Marco asked.

“Sorry, distracted. I guess we could try Marco, whatever.” Discussing being friends with someone over the phone seemed like an all time low to be quite honest.

“Awesome!” He went on to talk about some herbal tea recipe I should make to make sure I wouldn’t get sick again. I wasn’t paying attention; short suit man and his buddies had gotten closer, still watching me. I wasn’t stupid, I saw them. And they saw me. They had to know if they were planning on mugging me they were failing because I could see them clear as day. But what was throwing me off and making me contemplate running was that they didn’t seem to care that I knew they were there.

Almost on cue, the trio moved off the wall they’d been leaning against and started towards me.

“Shit,” my voice was clipped and I moved back into the crowd, attempting to blend in and possible shake the guys.

“Jean? What’s happening?” Marco cut off his tea rant and was alert as ever on the other end of the phone.

“I don’t know, some guys have been watching me for the past ten minutes. They kept getting closer, they’re full on following me now.” I warily cast a glance over my shoulder and sure enough, they were moving through the crowd in an attempt to get closer. “Oh god.”

“Shit, do they look dangerous? Can you call the cops?”

“They’re all wearing fucking suits Marco, like they’re living in some sort of Mafia utopia.” I picked up the pace, my grip on my skateboard tightening as I crossed the street.

“Where are you? I’ll come to you.”

“4th street, but I’m not stopping. I’m gonna keep heading up towards 7th.”

“Alright, stay on the phone just in case.”

At the moment I was beyond grateful for Marco’s insistent prodding at keeping in touch. I was also beyond terrified. I’d taken a martial arts class a few years back and I’d graduated in the top ten with a double black belt, but all that slipped out of my mind. All I could focus on now was getting as much space between me and the suit guys as possible.

“Alright, I’m driving now. I’m about a block away from 7th but I’ll come towards you.”

“Okay. Thank you so much Marco.” My voice was shaking. Chancing another look, I saw that I’d gained some space between us, but they were still keeping up. There was also only two of them. My stomach dropped and I heard myself cursing profusely despite my better judgement. Everyone around me cast cautious looks at me. “Marco there’s only two now.”

“What?”

“There were three; now there’s only two behind me. Shit, fucking christ what the hell-” I nearly stopped when I saw the third man ahead of me, waiting at the intersection. How the hell had he gotten around me so fast? “Fuck.”

“Crap, Jean get on the other side of the street or something!” Marco sounded like he was nearly out of breath, the suspense of the whole situation driving him batty.

“I can’t, the last guy is too close.” Frantically I searched for someway out of this shit situation. There was a back alley that connected to the noodle shop, and I took the chance.

“I’m almost there Jean, just stay where I can see you.”

“I’m gonna try losing them in the noodle shop on 5th, just- fuck I don’t know honk really loud and I’ll know it’s you.” The back door was, thankfully, unlocked. I barreled inside and ignored the questioning phrases from waiters as I made my way to the front. I didn’t see anyone menacing behind me, so I kept going as casually as possible to the front. I pulled the front door open to step out, but stopped when I saw the third man in front of me. He was looking down at me with a twinge of annoyance in his features, and I felt all the air rush out of my lungs.

“Fuck.”

“Jean? What’s going on Jean-” someone plucked the phone out of my hands from behind me, and when I spun around I saw it was the shorter man. The death grip he had on my phone made my stomach coil.

“Jean Kirschtein, I presume?” When I didn’t say anything in response the short guy moved his coat back to reveal a handgun. My eyes widened and he quirked an eyebrow at me. He then waved his hand as a ‘go ahead’ and I felt a monstrous hand plant itself on my shoulder. That’s when I reacted.

I dropped my skateboard and reached behind me, digging my nails into the guys arm and twisting under it in an attempt to get free. It worked for a moment until I felt one of the other goons loop his arm around my neck. _Shit, did these people want me dead? And how do they know my name?_ I gripped the man’s arm with one hand and the fabric of his suit with the other, then with as much strength as I could muster, flipped him over my shoulder. He landed with a grunt and heaved violently, trying to regain the breath that I’d knocked out of him. I heard a few people scream inside the restaurant, and I knew I had to get out of there before I had the cops searching for me.

Apparently the possibility of my fighting back hadn’t occurred to the shorter guy, and he just stood there completely stunned. My attention swerved back to the first douche who was preparing to come at me again. I lifted my foot and brought it up as high as I could (in jeans, mind you) and sent him colliding into the garbage bins by the door.

I didn’t wait after that, the short guy hadn’t made a move and I knew I could take him if he followed. Instead, I threw open the restaurant doors and bolted down the streets until I reached the intersection I’d been heading to. I looked frantically for that beautiful car I’d give an arm and a leg for right about now, and eventually saw it. Marco caught sight of me right away and switched lanes, slowing down long enough for me to throw open the door and slide in.

“Hey! Stop!” I looked to see the short guy rushing towards the car. He looked less panicked about me getting away and more pissed off. Must not have expected me to do so much damage.

“Drive!” I shouted. Marco complied without a word, getting us blocks away in probably under a minute. I sat in the passenger seat with my head against the window, panting and attempting to reign in my breathing.

“Jean, what the hell happened?” Marco’s question sounded like a mix between anger, confusion, and worry. I can’t say I didn’t feel bad for dragging him into whatever the hell this mess was.

“Those guys, they split up. I have no idea who they were but they cornered me. Marco, holy shit, they had guns!” Dread began to set in and I curled over with my elbows on my knees. I felt Marco’s hand on my back as it began rubbing soothing circles in an attempt to calm me down. Just as before, the feeling of his hand so low made my face heat up and I jolted back to sitting position.

“S-Sorry.” Marco mumbled. Seemingly morose yet still worried, he cast a glance at me. “Do you know why those guys might have been after you?”

I shook my head. “No. But shit, Marco, they knew my name. They have my phone! My address is in there!” My mind immediately flickered to Nanna. She was supposed to be out of the house today, I remembered, but she had to go back eventually, right? “Can I borrow your phone?”

Marco pulled it out of his back pocket and handed it to me. I hastily unlocked it and dialed Nanna’s number, praying to whatever higher power existed that she’d pick up. Apparently it was some universal happening that old people never answered their phones.

On the third ring, I heard her voice. “Yes, hello?” I wanted to burst into tears right there.

“Nanna, it’s Jean.”

Her voice perked up right away. “Oh, Jean! Why couldn’t I see your caller ID? Is my phone broken? Could you look at it for me later.”

“No, Nanna, your phone isn’t broken. I’m borrowing a-” I looked at Marco but he had his eyes trained on the road. “I’m borrowing a friend’s phone. Look, are you alright?”

“Am I alright? Jean I’m in the middle of the store, what on Earth is this about?”

Oh yeah, she was definitely fine. “Nothing I just- I love you, I don’t say it a lot but I do.”

He heard her let out one of those cheery old people chuckles. “I love you too, Jean. I’ll see you home for dinner.”

“Yeah, right. Bye Nanna.” I handed the phone back to Marco and sagged against the leather seat. Marco must have registered my relaxed demeanor and decided to try keeping it that way. He was quiet until I spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Where are we going?”

“My house. At least until I’m positive you don’t have Mafia members tracking you.” I snorted at that and went back to sulking in my seat. What the hell _had_ happened? If this was as serious as it was making itself out to be, Marco was putting himself in danger by helping me. What an exciting friendship this was turning out to be.

When we reached Marco’s house, I was surprised to say the least. The guy had a jaw dropping car but he lived in an apartment complex. It was nicer than mine, at least. Silently we waited for the elevator, and silently we rode up. He lived on the eighth floor in room 3, and I couldn’t help but notice he had a robot key sleeve for his house key.

He pushed open the front door and was immediately assaulted by a small figure in pink. “Marco’s home!” she exclaimed. She stared up at him with brown eyes identical to his own, and I realized this had to be his sister. The resemblance was uncanny.

“Marissa you didn’t have to wait for me, don’t you have homework?” He was putting on a stern face, but I could see the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“I don’t get work on the weekends like adults.” She gave him a toothy grin. Or… _toothless_. She was missing her front teeth.

Marco gestured to me and pulled the younger girl close. “Marissa, this is my friend Jean. He’s gonna stay with his for the afternoon.”

Marissa looked up at me shyly but stepped forward and _curtsied_ of all things, then introduced herself. “Nice to meet you, Jean.”

The way she said my name was odd, but I blamed it on youth and smiled down at her. “Same to you.”

The next ten minutes was Marco situating Marissa on the couch and putting on some Disney movie for her to watch. After he was done, he motioned for me to follow him upstairs.

It was a spacious bedroom. A desk was situated by a sliding glass door that opened up to a balcony outside. His bed was shoved in the corner, sheets messed up and strewn atop the mattress. There was a TV against the wall by his closet, which was just bi-folding doors. It also smelled like cinnamon in here. Did he just carry that scent with him everywhere?

I decided to limit my frolicking in his room to a minimum and sat at his desk, running my hands through my matted hair. I sighed, aggitated and frustrated with my situation. I’d been followed and cornered in the middle of the day and basically made a get away with Marco. I’d lost my phone and my skateboard in the process. Grand.

“Do you cut your own hair?” I heard Marco ask from across the room. He was hanging up his jacket, a smile playing on his freckled features.

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“It looks good.” he stated simply. “Do you dye the top?”

Absentmindedly I scratched my undercut and twisted the ends of the bleached hairs. “Yeah, the shaved part’s my natural color.”

“I’d never be able to do that. I’m way too chicken.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I went with, “You wouldn’t need to, your hair looks good as it is.”

At that, he turned around and smiled at me. “Thanks.” _Don’t read too much into it, freckles._ “Sorry if it was a weird question, I’m trying to steer your mind somewhere else.”

Huh. It was appreciated.

“So,” I swiveled around in his desk chair. “How long do I have to stay here?”

He closed his closet door and splayed on his bed, addressing the ceiling as he spoke. “No set time I guess? Give it a while to cool down.”

“I should probably check the news, see if anyone reported delinquent activity in a worn down noodle shop.”

Marco sat up and shot me a questioning look, eerily similar to the ones I got from Nanna. “Why would someone report something like that?”

I hadn’t told him, had I? “I uhm. I guess, kind of beat the shit out of two of the guys.”

Excitement had not been what I was expecting. “Really?! Are you like, Bruce Lee or something? Can you do backflips off walls? Or punch through a cinderblock?” If Marco had a tail, it would have been wagging like crazy.

“What? No, I just know self defense. But lots of people saw, so they might have reported it.”

He grunted in response and moved to turn on the TV. “You can change the channel if you want, I’m gonna go check on Marissa.” He grinned again, and with that, he left.

Reluctantly, I stood up and moved to his bed where the remote was after sitting alone for about five minutes. I bent over to pick it up, only to watch some stringy white shit shoot from my wrist all over the remote.

“Fuck!” I yanked my arm back and fell on my ass, staring at my hand wide eyed. My fingers were covered in the stuff and when I tried to pull it off, it just broke apart and felt oddly like hair. No, it was sticky, so not hair. It was like cobwebs.

Right away I started to panick. My mind jumped back to where else? The fucking purple room back at the Survey Corp. building. Shit had gone downhill for me since then and I couldn’t help the theories of contingency that had been pouring from that place once I showed up. I pinched the cobwebs (I guess) and pulled it off my hand, only to be met with pain when it snapped off my wrist.

The webs fluttered to the ground, and I bolted. As quietly yet hastily as I could, I raced down the steps and tiptoed my way through the kitchen. I peered around the corner and saw Marco was playing with Marissa, tickling her while she fought back through giggles. I immediately felt bad, realizing I was letting Marco run my emotions off the rails lately. He was a nice person, and I was just a jackass. With spider webs coming out of my wrist.

I guess I had a reason to be a jackass.

I opened the front door and silently clicked it shut, skipping the elevator wait and just taking the stairs instead. By the time I reached the bottom I had the overwhelming urge to punch myself in the face. I’d gotten the chance to see first hand how nice he could be and I basically had gone and thrown it back in his face.

But aside from that, what the fuck had just happened to my hand? Did I go to the doctor? Did I go back upstairs? What the _fuck_ was happening anymore?

Before I had the opportunity to wallow in more self pity, a black escort car pulled up in front of the apartment building. My stomach dropped as the short guy from before stepped out of the back seat, eyes narrowed at me.

“Run again, brat, and you’ll get a bullet in your leg.”

“Why are you following me?” I croaked out. I’d taken a step back but if he was serious about shooting me, I was screwed.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Get in the car.”

_What?!_ “You realize how menacing this sounds, right? I’m not about to get in a strangers car, I’ll probably end up in a ditch.”

“And I’m not about to ask you again.” He pulled something from his back pocket and threw it at me. I caught it clumsily and saw it was my phone. “Get in the car, kid.” He didn’t wait for me, just climbed back in, leaving the back door open.

I believe I’ve stated before that I had no common sense, and I’ll say it again. I’m an idiot. A complete dumbass. Don’t follow my example. I got in the car, wordlessly accepting that I might end up dead in the next coming hour.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter seemed to drag a little bit. im still trying to establish some plot ideas and work my way into the better parts ;;  
> there might be errors so please let me know if there are any you catch! i can only beta read this myself so much :')  
> also might take the time to mention im not set on how often i'll update. probably just when i can, but with summer break coming up ill make an effort to do so often   
> thank you all for your support so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean meets the man who runs the show and bonds with freckles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i skipped studying for my bio final for this LMAO

We drove for what felt like an hour, in complete silence. I didn’t trust this guy to ask him questions, and he sure as hell didn’t seem to be the friendly type.

Eventually, I recognized our surroundings and put two and two together; we were back at the Survey Corp. I was ushered out of the car and led through the lobby and into a back area that had been bypassed on my field trip. The back room led to an elevator that an employee opened with a key card. The trip up was uneventful, and we stopped at the 32nd floor. I was then led into another office, contemplating whether I’d make it out alive or not when the door clicked shut behind me.

“Jean Kirschtein?” I heard a voice say from ahead of me.

“This is him. Don’t bother sending me on anymore retrieval missions if it means dealing with half the shit I went through to get him.” the short guy walked past me and made himself comfortable in the leather chair against the wall.

“Levi you were given the means to get him here quickly and quietly. Instead he took down Eld and Gunther and conveniently had a getaway car.” The massive chair behind the desk turned, and I was met with a pair of cold blue eyes. The man behind the broad table had an amused smile dancing on his lips, one that made me freeze.

_What the hell had I gotten myself into?_

“Please, sit.” He gestured to one of the swivel chairs in front of his desk. After I took my seat, the man stood and walked to a long table pushed against the wall, adorned with intricate bottles and glasses. He plucked two glasses and filled them each with an amber liquid, then handed one to me before taking his seat again. “Now, I’d like to firstly apologize for any miscommunications that were conveyed today.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him, choosing to sip from my glass instead of answer. I had to hold back the urge to spit the drink all over him; it was strong, and I realized right away he’d given me alcohol.

“Bourbon, a personal favorite.” He smiled after taking notice and set his own glass down without drinking any. “My name is Erwin Smith, I am the acting president of the Survey Corporation here in the city. That bitter fellow you’ve had the privilege of meeting already goes by Levi.”

The short guy, Levi, paused from staring at the door to shoot Erwin a stern look. Erwin only chuckled softly.

“I understand you go to Trost High School? You attended a field trip here the other day, no?”

“I did.” Thankfully my voice was steady. I didn’t want either of these two thinking I was scared or anything. I wasn’t. Not a lot at least.

“The main reason you were brought in today was regarding an incident we caught on one of our security cameras.” Erwin gestured to his computer which flickered to life. A black and white video was paused on the screen, and I already had an idea of what I was going to be seeing.

He simply clicked play and I saw myself sauntering through corridors, my camera at the ready snapping pictures as I went. I could already feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat as the video switched to me running to catch the door that lead into the purple room. Erwin, however, stopped the video there and turned to look at me again, smile still in place.

“And the rest is history,” he grinned. “Mr. Kirschtein, at a glance one would assume that door is heavily protected for a reason, wouldn’t you say?”

“Sir, with all do respect; if you’re going to kill me to cover up the machine full of spiders I saw, please just get it over with.”

He froze, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Levi turn to look at me. “What is it with you and assuming we want to kill you?” Levi all but snarled, sporting the usual vaguely pissed off look.

“I can assure you, Jean, we don’t plan on killing you. I only wanted to ask why the secrecy involved with taking pictures?”

_Shit, do I tell the truth? Do I cover it up? Balls._ “Honestly sir, I was asked to take pictures for the school’s newspaper. Wait for next week’s copy if you really want.”

Once again, he smiled. It was starting to get creepy. “I believe you Jean. No need for evidence. For future reference though, let’s avoid any more repeats like this, shall we?” It wasn’t a question. It was a threat. I could see it in the way he held himself, the way the words molded in his mouth like putty. He wanted me to know he was serious, that he could do damage.

I nodded stiffly, recognizing the underlying message.

“Very good. Levi, if you’d be so kind as to show Mr. Kirschtein out?”

“Tch, the fuck am I, a butler now? He remembers the way.” Levi waved me off, and Erwin only sighed.

“Oh, and one more thing Jean.” He reached behind the desk and lifted up my skateboard, handing it to me over his desk. Levi must have brought it back at some point, but I said nothing. In that brief moment though, I saw his right arm was gone. He noticed that I was looking and glanced down. “You noticed, yes?” He lifted the arm for me to see, and I saw it was cut off just above the elbow with his suit sleeve rolled up.

_Damn, insensitive Jean. Think a little more wouldja?_

“It happened in a car accident nine years ago. It’s little more than a memory now.” His eyes scanned my torso until he reached my eyes again. “Have a nice day, Jean.”

I was out of there faster than humanly possible. Levi did, in fact, leave me to maneuver my way through the building on my own. Luckily I remembered the way, which limited the judgmental stares I was getting from employees as I waited for the elevator. I checked my phone and saw I didn’t recieve any calls or texts from Marco. Then again, I’d told him my phone was gone earlier so he probably knew he had no means of contacting me.

That was good, right?

It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon and I was beat. I figured I might as well go home. Make a bowl of ice cream and wish away today.

Hah. Hopeful thinking.

Upside was I had my skateboard and my phone back. Getting home would be easier and I wouldn’t have to explain losing my phone to Nanna. Subconsciously I knew Marco would jump to give me a ride home if I asked, but I knocked that idea out of my head. I’d blown it with Marco; I was an ass, he was the epitome of a golden retriever puppy. I didn’t expect anything from him.

I rode home in a state of total melancholy. Why was I moping? I blamed the consensual kidnapping I’d gone through. Along with the perfect vision I’d been experiencing all day with a side order of spider webs shooting from my fucking hand. I was done replaying all the crap from today in my head and instead thought about how hungry I was. What was Nanna making for dinner? I kinda wanted spaghetti. But then again I almost wanted breakfast for dinner. Those nights were usually surprises from Nanna since she knew I loved french toast and would eat it any time of day.

Deep in thought, I turned the corner to ride down the street that took me to my apartment complex. It was routine for me now; ride thirty feet along the sidewalk, kick my board up, scan the entry card. So when I stopped to kick my board up and nearly broke a pair of legs that weren’t mine, I yelped. My board started to roll away when the stranger’s leg shot out and sandwiched it between his foot and the sidewalk.

My fists clenched and I had to will myself to not punch the asshole in the face. Did he not see me blatantly heading in this direction? Regardless, I bit the bullet and muttered a ‘sorry’ as he bent down to pick up the board. Familiar brown eyes met mine, and my breath hitched in my throat.

“What…” I trailed off. Uncomfortable, I looked away and addressed my words to the street. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Oh shit, he was angry. “Not even five hours ago you were being chased downtown, yet here you are without a care in the world out in the open-” He froze and fixed me with a hard look that made my stomach coil. Why could he do these things to me?

“Where’d you get the skateboard?”

I decided playing stupid might be the better way to go in this particular situation. “I’ve had it? What do you mean?”

Wrong move. If anything his eyes got darker and he looked more pissed off. “Really Jean? Do you think I’m stupid or something?”

“No! Of course not, I’m just-” Groaning, I raked my hands through my hair. Why the hell did this have to be so hard? Why was interacting with other people such a foreign concept to me? All my life I’d been unable to maintain a friendship longer than a month tops because I’d say something or do something to fuck it up. And here was Marco, _asking me_ if we could _try to be friends_ and I went and fucked it up. But he came back and was here now, confronting me about it.

I let out a shaky breath and through the corner of my eye, I saw his posture relax a little bit, clearly phased by my panic. “Jean, why did you leave?”

_Because spider webs shot out of my hand and stuck to your remote._ “I don’t know. I don’t know, Marco! I don’t know anything.”

“Yes you do,” he persisted softly. “Please Jean, talk to me.”

“Why do you care Marco?” I’d said it so softly I was surprised he heard. I hadn’t said it in a malicious way, and he knew that. Yet he still recoiled in surprise.

“What, has no one ever tried to voluntarily be friends with you before?”

I didn’t respond and instead, continued staring at my feet. It was a relatively awkward silence that ensued, and I felt with each passing second I was fucking up the opportunity I’d been given to fix this.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I should have told you I was leaving, it was rude and inconsiderate.”

Marco seemed to ponder this for a second, seemingly more out of confusion than anything. After a moment, he nodded and said, “Alright. But tell me why you left and how you got your board back.”

Shit, that was all kind of… off limits.

“I’ve just been feeling sick since the field trip. I walked back downtown to the restaurant and found my skateboard. One of the employees had my phone and gave it back.”

I must have been convincing or maybe Marco just wanted to let it all go, because he sighed and nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, looked at me, then closed it again.

“Do you-” I cut myself off when I realized what I’d been about to ask. I felt bad. Really crappy honestly. And Marco deserved better than me jerking him around like this. _Suck it up, be civilized._ “Do you want to come up?”

He brightened at the suggestion and smiled. “Sure.”

We rode the seven floors up in the elevator in a surprisingly comfortable silence. My eyes swept over Marco’s body, not judging, but analyzing everything I could about him.

He was about 5’10”, maybe taller, with a strong build. He was wearing a loose, Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt with jeans. The lighting inside washed out his complexion, but I knew outside the elevator he was covered in freckles. He inclined his head towards me, and I realized he’d caught me staring. My face heated up and I looked up at the elevator floor counter slowly tick up to the seventh.

Nanna was in the kitchen as usual when we walked in. Something was simmering on the stove top and she was dropping meatballs into a pan. “Jean, there you are! Who is this?”

“This is Marco. He’s from school.”

Nanna put down the plate of raw meatballs and hobbled over to Marco and squared him up. Her 5’4” height did nothing to lessen the intimidation she radiated. However, she went right ahead and pulled him down into a hug.

“Any friend of Jean’s is welcome here. Odd though,” she pulled away and patted him on the shoulder. “Jean never brings home friends. Not once ever! You must be quite a gem to have him drag you-” I cleared my throat to cut her off and she shot me a compassionate look. “Anywho, dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Why don’t you show Marco upstairs?”

I beckoned for him to follow and reluctantly opened my bedroom door. After seeing Marco’s room, I was more than self conscious of the closet I called a bedroom. The floor was clean when I walked in, make for a few books still on the floor from this morning. More books littered my small desk and the dresser in the corner still had folded laundry I’d yet to put away. Maco stepped inside and glanced around, eyes finally settling on the wall of pictures I’d taped up months ago.

“Did you take these?”

I paused from taking off my shoes to nod up at him. “Yeah, nothing professional.”

“It looks professional! Jean this is amazing!” Marco beamed at me, and for the first time I was positive I _blushed_.

“I- ah, thanks Marco.” Rubbing my neck sheepishly, I stood and sat on the edge of my bed. Marco had moved on to looking at the framed picture I had on my desk. He looked to me, wordlessly asking if he could take a look, and I nodded. He picked it up gingerly and examined it closely.

He seemed reluctant at first, but eventually he asked, “Are these your parents?”

“Mhm.”

A pause. “Where are they?”

“Died when I was eight. Car accident.” We both gave it the moment it deserved.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. Thanks though.”

He put the picture back down and sat in the chair at my desk. “So, do you wanna tell me how you really got your phone and skateboard back?”

_Fuck, I knew it was too good to be true_. “Marco, I really don’t want to pull you into this. In part because it’s not your business, and also I don’t want you in danger.”

He seemed taken aback by my honesty. After all my dodging and avoiding the question earlier I guess I couldn’t really blame him. “That’s… a fair point. The last one, at least. But I’m already involved Jean, I picked you up off the street while some goon with a gun chased you.” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Touche.” Marco smirked at me and I cracked my knuckles, a bad nervous habit I really had to break. “I really did get sick at your house. When I walked outside, gun-guy was there and told me to get in his car. I agreed, ended up back at the Survey Corps, and the president of the company asked me why I was snooping around taking pictures during the field trip.”

That was the shortened version, and even that left Marco stunned. “Were pictures not allowed or…?”

“They were. Just not in restricted areas sealed off by massive steel doors.”

He shot up and gaped at me, an incredulous look on his face. “Jean?! What the hell! You’re not getting sued are you?”

I stifled a laugh, barely letting a smile shine through instead. “No, he just told me off sternly.” I mimicked Erwin’s voice as I gruffly spoke, “‘Do you think those doors were there for a reason? Excellent, you do. Never do that again’.”

Marco gave me that look he’d given his sister earlier on, but he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his features. “Not funny, Jean.”

I shrugged. “Sure as hell wasn’t when I was there, but now I’m not and I’m free to make fun of him as much as I want.” Then I remembered, “Or not. He’s a paraplegic, probably shouldn’t or I’ll get pegged for being some inconsiderate delinquent.”

Down the hall, Nanna called to us both, letting us know dinner was ready. Marco and I sauntered into the kitchen, table set for three. Nanna perked up and patted her hair as she asked Marco if he’d stay for dinner.

He glanced at me as if for approval, and I shrugged. “Cool with me.”

“Sounds good then.” he said.

Both Marco and I devoured our meals, appetites raging. Nanna’s cooking was sensational as always, which only ensured that we ate the extra food left over. Marco, not surprisingly, made small talk with Nanna throughout dinner. He learned how long we’d lived in Trost, what side of the family she was from, her hobbies, and probably more. I’d zoned out after a while, only contributing to the conversation when addressed directly. I wasn’t uncomfortable, simply letting Nanna have her moment.  

It was a little after eight when Marco insisted he start heading home. Nanna gave him some scones from earlier to take home, suggesting he share them with his sister (whom Marco had raved about over dinner).

“Don’t think you can’t come over whenever you want. If not for Jean, then for me. My precious old heart can’t take much more of his brooding.” She whispered the last part to him as she passed along the container of scones, however I still caught it.

Marco laughed and turned to me as Nanna made her way back into the kitchen. He gave me another one of those lopsided smiles and held up the scones. “If there’s any chance these are as good as dinner was I’m sure Marissa will inhale them.”

I laughed, shrugging. “I’m used to the five star pastries, you can always come back for more.”

“Would that be alright? If we did this again? Hanging out I mean. Preferably without the whole CSI vibe involved this morning.”

“Sure, that’d be cool.” I noticed how much easier it was getting to talk to him, which was something I hadn’t guessed I’d be grateful for.

After a few more exchanges, Marco left. Part of me felt drained; so much had happened today and sleep was something I was welcoming. But another part of me was wide awake, excited even. Nanna was out of her element tonight, probably ecstatic seeing me interacting with other people.

Somewhere, I heard a phone ring. The ringtone was ridiculously loud, and I scoured the living room to find the source quickly.

“Nanna, is your phone going off?”

“Hah? Jean, there’s no phone going off.”

Obviously there was. It was loud and perfectly clear. Even elderly hearing couldn’t be that fucking bad. “No, Nanna there’s a phone ringing, is it yours?”

“Jean, I don’t know what’s gotten to your head. Probably the rush of socializing.” She went back to scrubbing plates.

The ringing stopped and I heard a high pitched voice answer, immediately diving into a conversation. My hearing diverted my attention to the open window by the fire escape, and I strode over. When I peered out, there was a girl walking across the street away from the apartment complex chatting away.

_Why can I hear her?_ I plugged my ears and slapped the side of my head a few times. I could still hear her, but it was faint now.

Everything was getting better; my eyesight, my hearing, along with the webs. I didn’t want to connect any of this back to the Survey Corp, because then I was really screwed. After my encounter with the president, my initial plan had been to avoid the memory.

And just like that, I decided it was time to get a fucking move on and figure out what the hell this was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter drags (again), but i FINALLY know the direction im gonna take this story in  
> next chapter things get moving along im psyched to write it ʃ(˘▽ƪ)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity killed the cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a reason for taking so long to update and that reason is *loud truck honking*

The first thing I realized when I woke up was that my head was hurting. I groaned and contemplating going back to sleep, but the blaring of taxi horns and police sirens from outside decided for me. I threw off the covers and stiffly headed for my bedroom door. When I twisted the handle, there was a loud crack, and I was suddenly holding it in my fist.

The handle. In my hand. Detached from my door.

That woke me up better than any cup of coffee could. I dropped the handle and carefully pulled my door open and kicked the handle from the other side of the door into my room. I stumbled into the bathroom, leaning against the wall for support. The pain was steadily going away but I still pinched my wrist, focusing on that instead.

 _One good morning, that’s all I want_. I leaned forward and twisted the faucet on to splash some water on my face. Suddenly there was a loud hissing noise and water was spraying everywhere. I only screamed and flailed my arms around in front of my face, covering the broken faucet best I could.

“Shit! Fuck.” I gave up and threw open the door, striding out of the bathroom. How the hell was I going to explain that one? I grabbed some towels from the linen closet and returned to see a puddle forming on the floor. I dropped one towel on the floor and covered the sink with the others.

An idea hit me in that moment, but I was half tempted to ignore it completely because of how stupid it was. I stared at my wrist and made a fist. No webs. Rock and roll hand gestures. Nothing.

What was I doing? This had to be the dumbest thing I’d ever even attempted, not counting getting into a stranger’s car yesterday. I held my arm out and pointed my fingers down straight, aiming at the mirror. When I extended my arm fully and webs _actually_ shot out, I reared back.

“Holy shit!” I was excited and terrified all at once. I peeled the material from the mirror and began wrapping it around the faucet. The webs were thick and fanned out enough that it covered everything. It took a while but eventually I managed to stop the water flow. Even afterwards, all I could do was stare at my hand in awe.

The next hour went by fast. I’d raced back down the hall into my bedroom and changed, flinging myself into my desk seat. I’d probably looked up more on spiders than ever before; Brown Recluse spiders, spider venom, effects of spider bites. Everything was repeated, the same information listed for every rewording of the original search. I was cranky and irritable, not to mention a little scared. It seemed more… abilities were popping up, and I didn’t want to wait around to see if dying was one of them.

Quickly, I typed in ‘Survey Corporation Spider Research’ and hit enter. Every entry that came up was dated from nine to twelve years ago. There were a few pictures on articles of Erwin Smith and more scientists involved in the research. I was about to give up when a name stopped me from closing the tab.

 _Claude Kirschtein and Erwin Smith. Survey Corporation Banquet, 2005_.

I froze. My brain was working too fast for my thoughts to catch up and the words on the screen were suddenly blurry. It took me a moment to realize I was tearing up, and I blinked it all back. _Why was my dad involved with Erwin Smith?_

As far as I knew, my dad had worked for an accounting office at the edge of the city. My mom stayed home to look after me before she’d died. Seeing my dad’s face plastered on the front of some Survey Corporation article made no sense. It also brought back some pretty shitty memories that had been buried for a long time. Nanna never spoke of my parents, and I never pushed.  

_Together, Dr. Kirschtein and President Smith announced the success of Project Arachne at the Annual Survey Corporation Banquet._

I looked for more; more articles, pictures, videos, anything I could find with my father’s name or face on it. Everything I found related to the Survey Corporation. Eventually I reached the more recent information, my father’s death.

_Tragic car accident kills 3, injures 1._

_Kirschtein family and assistant die in car crash._

_President Smith only survivor in fatal car accident._

I paused and scanned the webpage thoroughly, my eyes finally stopping on the picture of Erwin Smith stretched out on a gurney. There was a paramedic hovering over his right side and pointing at the _demolished_ car. I quit out of the article and searched up images from the accident, chewing my lip as I looked.

By the looks of the pictures, the car had ended up veering off road and smashing into a cluster of trees. I felt sick, like I shouldn’t be looking at the recorded mementos of my parents’ death. But if any of it had to do with what I was going through now, I knew I had to.

I quit that tab, promising to myself I wouldn’t look up the more fucked up aspects of this situation. Instead, I focused more on this Project Arachne. It certainly fit the criteria; the name  _Arachne_  for fucks sake, and the video I found.

It was Claude Kirschtein talking about what the research could do, what it could benefit. But all I could do was focus on my _father_. Hard to believe that I’d gone nine years without looking at anything related to my parents except a few pictures Nanna had hung in our tiny apartment. To see my dad _alive_ and walking around talking in this video…

The floorboards creaked down the hall, and I quickly switched tabs. A few moments later, Nanna pushed open my bedroom door, smile plastered on her face as always. “Jean, you’re already awake?”

I only nodded, and she shuffled into the bathroom. I froze and waited, and eventually I heard the door creak open.

“Jean?”

“Yeah?”

“...What happened to the sink?”

Balls. “It was broken this morning so I fixed it.”

“Oh for the love of all things shiny, Jean Kirschtein _what_ did you fix it with?”

 _Spider webs_. “Duct tape.”

She sighed and closed the door again, but I could still hear her mumble “You’d think all men knew a thing or two about fixing things.”

I turned back to my laptop and saved my searches before snapping the lid shut. Did I say anything? I had so many questions and I _knew_ Nanna would have answers to some of them but she was more stubborn than me which was saying something. She couldn’t know I’d been browsing through my dead parents’ past but I still had to know. I’d be discreet.

Once she finished in the bathroom and went back  to her room to get changed, she called down the hall, “Jean, remember you’re going to need to drive me to the Community Center today!”

What? Shit, it was Sunday wasn’t it…

I kind of dreaded the long ass drive there. “Sure.”

By the time we were out the door it was 9:00, and I briefly questioned how I was able to function so early in the morning. Thankfully we bypassed the traffic that gathered downtown, shaving off the commute time by a good twenty minutes.

“Hey, Nanna, can I ask you something?”

“Hm? What is it Jean?” She wasn’t looking at me, only rifling through her purse for something.

“It’s about my parents.” She stilled and glanced at me through the corner of her eye. When she didn’t respond, I continued. “Why didn’t Dad tell me he worked for the Survey Corps?”

Her head turned faster than I could track, and I felt her bony hand grip my shoulder. “Who told you that?” She sounded frightened and angry at my question.

“I found out myself. Answer the question.” Now I was mildly irritated, what with her defensive reaction.

She huffed and leaned back into the passenger seat. “I’m not going to dig up old news, Jean. Your father was a very private man, you know that better than anyone.”

My blood was starting to boil and I gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. “Can’t you just tell me? Why did he lie to me about where he worked?”

“Your father had his reasons. Your mother too, for keeping it from you.” The way she said it had a sense of finality to it, like that was all she was going to say on the matter.

“Don’t you think I have a right to know? They’re my parents, I’m the one in the dark here!”

The look she gave me was cold as ice. “I don’t have to tell you anything Jean. I’m not going to be the one disturbing the peace your parent’s have been in for, what, ten years now? Leave it be.”

“Nine years…” I mumbled. She looked at me incredulously and angrily riffled through her purse again.

Needless to say I was pissed. I hadn’t been in many situations like this with Nanna before, we got along well. But now she was keeping secrets from me, secrets I had a right to know, and I was hella fucking mad.

Like hell I was dropping the subject, but I also knew Nanna had officially put the seal on her mouth which meant she would just glare at me if I kept pushing her to talk. So I drove on in silence, only muttering “fuck” at the careless driving that Trost highways offered. When we finally pulled up to the Community Center Nanna was quick to shuffle out. She stopped midway and looked back at me before saying “Everything your father did, he did to protect you.” And with that, she left.

That did absolutely nothing to make me feel better about the situation. I mentally kicked myself for having been such a sensitive baby about my dead parents when I was a kid. If I hadn’t been, maybe more light could have been shed on everything involving them. I put the car in reverse and rather carelessly backed out of the Community Center parking lot.

I drove for maybe twenty minutes until I recognized the city surroundings, and I pulled over by the row of warehouses near the docks. I all but slammed the station wagon door shut and went about kicking a beer can as I walked into the nearest building. It was arid inside, walls peeling and spotted with rust, plants sprouting out of the cracks in the ground. It smelled like dirt and fish, probably because of how close to the water the place was. Perfect spot for a mopey teenager to drown in self loathing.

I didn’t know what I was doing; why I was here or what I thought I could accomplish by coming here. Deep breathes, I reminded myself. _Chill the fuck out Kirschtein, you’re fine_. I looked around the warehouse and noted all the beams that stretched through the ceiling space.

I got an idea right then and immediately questioned it. Did I really want to try swinging around like some real life version of Tarzan? Au contraire, I wanted to try it to confirm I hadn’t been losing my god damn mind the past three days.

I lifted my arm, repeated the same process I’d gone through this morning. A thick strand of webbing shot out and stuck to the beam I’d aimed at, and I couldn’t help the cheer of pure satisfaction I let out. _Now what?_ I gripped the strand tight with my opposite hand and kicked my feet up. I swung about halfway across the open space before my ass collided with the ground and I let go.

 _Fucking OW that hurt_. I should have probably registered simple height issues. I pulled that strand free and moved to climb on a stack of boxes next to a pillar. The height gave me a good six feet to work with above ground. I jumped off the boxes and let loose another strand of webbing, grinning to myself when it stuck its target and I was fucking _swinging_ around the room.

“Yeha!!” _One point for Jean_. I made a sort of oval lap around the room until I started to swing back towards the boxes and… the pillar.

“Shit, no no no no no no-” I held my hand out and felt the chill of the pillar meet my hand, and surprisingly, I stopped moving. It was like I had some sort of grip glove on my hand, like those socks with the sticky bits on the bottom. I slowly lowered myself so I was holding my own weight, and I stayed put. I pulled my wrist free of the web I had as a support and gripped the wall with that hand too.

Holy fuck, I was actually sticking. The grip from my tennis shoes helped as I started to pull myself up and _scaled_ the fucking pillar. The abnormal strength that broke the sink and my door, the webs, the wall climbing, it was like I was some sort of-

 _Spider_.

It all made sense now. Whatever the Survey Corporation had going with those spiders in that room, the bite I’d received clearly transferred some sort of genetics to me that stuck. But if they had that kind of power tucked under their arm, why hadn’t they done anything with it? If my dad had really helped with that Project Arachne bullshit, that meant their research had been sitting on the shelf for nine years. None of it made sense.

Suddenly, I heard shuffling from outside and voices conversing. As fast and efficiently as I could, I pulled myself up the remainder of the pillar and perched on a beam, leaning over to peer behind the pillar.

“We can move the shipments here if we need extra space. The cargo boats carry enough to store in the original warehouse, but we can use this one too. I have clearance.”

It was just a few fisherman, I judged by the smell. The one talking had a clipboard and two others walked around the space I’d been swinging in moments earlier.

“Yeugh, you want us to use some _spider_ infested warehouse? The hell is this, some sort of joke?” One of the two guys stopped and gestured to the web still hanging from the beam. _Oh fuck_.

“What the hell, it’s huge! No way a spider did this.” said the other man.

“It’s a spider web, right? Then just assume some big ass spider made it. Exactly why I recommend gassing the place before we move anything in.”

The guy with the clipboard nodded and made a note with his pencil before gesturing for the two men to follow. “The back area is just as roomy as the front, and the cooler works, you just have to hook it up to the generator.”

“There’s another one!” shouted the original pissbaby, regarding the second strand I’d abandoned to climb the pillar. “Holy shit dude, what kind of infestation does this place have?”

Clipboard dude only shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know, I was looking around earlier and none of this was even here.”

“Well take care of this before next week, I’m not gonna have spider babies bursting out of the produce, god forbid.”

The three men joked around on their way out, and once I could hear their car moving across the gravel, I moved out of my spot. I dangled my feet over the beam and held my breath as I jumped down. The fall was maybe twenty feet, but I stuck the landing in a crouching position. _This is the greatest moment of my life_. Not only did I have some weird ass spider related powers but I was _controlling_ them.

Rather confidently, I strode out of the warehouse and headed for my station wagon. I sat there for a while, taking in everything, until I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. The caller ID splayed Marco’s name, and with some hesitation I answered.

“Hey Marco.”

“Hah! So you _did_ put my number in your phone.” I may or may not have denied keeping his number over dinner last night

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. What’s up?”

“I was planning on taking Marissa to the park today and I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

That was… bizarre. “Are you sure? That seems kinda like a family bonding thing.” The mention of family left a sour taste in my mouth.

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, Marissa wouldn’t stop asking me to invite you so I figured you wouldn’t mind. Unless you’re busy! In which case, maybe next time.”

I grinned and ran my fingers through my hair, glancing in the back. My skateboard was there on the seat, along with an unopened energy drink. Nanna must have thrown it in the car before we left, and in that moment a pang of guilt shot through me.

“Jean? You there?”

“Yeah, sorry. Sure, I’ll go. The park near the deli right?”

“Mhm! See you soon.”

With his confirmation, I hung up and started the car. Marco was a cool guy, more than that he was actually trying to get to know me. Which was more than anyone else had ever done. Which was also my own fault because of my resting bitch face and foul mouth. Those two usually steered people away within the first five minutes.

Traffic was spotty, but otherwise I made it to the park in about fifteen minutes. I spotted Marco right away, his tall ass self sticking out next to all the 4 foot toddlers. Marissa was leaning over the railing on the playground, a toothless smile on her face as she spoke to Marco. She spotted me first and started jumping and pointing. Marco turned, smile already there and he waved me over.

“Thanks for coming.” he said.

I nodded and quickly pocketed my phone after checking the time. It was only noon, but somehow I’d lost track of time while playing Tarzan. I suddenly felt something solid grip my leg, and I glanced down to see Marissa holding on to me. _Damn, she moves fast_.

“Uh…” I was terrible with kids. I couldn’t read their minds, and better yet, I couldn’t interact with them even when they were old enough to convey what they wanted. Marissa reached up and gripped the wheel on my board which was tucked under my arm and she tugged at it.

“Can I ride your skateboard Jean?” I was skeptical and looked at Marco, who was already voicing his disagreement.

“No, Marissa you don’t have a helmet.”

“Jean can hold my hand! Please Marco I’ll be careful!”

Marco looked at me and shrugged, clearly awaiting my word. “Yeah, I guess, that’d be fine.”

I ended up walking behind Marissa while she stood on the board with her hands above her head. I basically guided her around the park for fifteen minutes before Marco asked if we were hungry.

“Can we get pizza?” Marissa questioned, big unblinking eyes stuck on her brother’s face.

“We can go to the pizzeria on 7th street.” I offered, and Marissa hastily agreed and dragged me in the direction of their parked SUV. I was momentarily saddened at not seeing Marco’s beautiful Mustang. “I’ll meet you both there, I drove.” I said, gesturing to my ugly station wagon.

“Oh just ride with us,” Marco said. “I can take you back afterwards. Save gas and all that.” He looked down as he added the last bit, face a little red. I agreed and we drove quickly, noticing how clouds started to gather above the city.

The pizzeria was small but not crowded, only a few people mingling in the booths lining the walls. Marissa snatched the booth to the left of the front door and sprawled on the seat, motioning for Marco and I to join her. A young waitress probably Marco and I’s age took our orders and made a particularly detailed effort to splay her boobs in my face when she bent over to pick up our menu’s.

I buried my face in the crook of my arm and groaned. Marissa was busy coloring on the kids menu, but Marco’s attention was on my right away. “You alright?”

“I guess.” My eyes peeked over my arm but my head stayed down. “Family issues.”

He was quiet for a minute before asking, “You wanna talk about it?”

Did I? In a way I trusted Marco, but at the same time I wasn’t sure he’d follow. Or care. “Do you wanna listen?”

He gave me a shit eating grin and leaned back. “Only if you decide to talk.”

I snorted at that and stared at the salt shaker for a good minute. “I just found out my parents were keeping secrets from me. Not bad, I guess, but what I did know about them was all a lie.”

I could tell he was unsure of what to say, the way he shifted in his seat and rubbed his neck.

“You don’t have to say anything, I get it. It’s kinda a weird thing to try to understand.”

“I’d like to understand it.” he replied. “How much _did_ you know about your parents?”

Now that I thought about it, not a lot. I shrugged, “The basics. Birthday, names, shit like that.”

“And what were they lying about?”

“Where they worked. What they did outside the house. It was a big enough lie that I found out it might have to do with their deaths.”

“Oh wow. Did you try asking your grandma? She seems nice, maybe she’d give you some insight.”

I shook my head, sitting up once I saw our waitress returning with drinks and pizza slices. “I tried. She avoided the topic like the plague and threw that ‘they kept it from you for your own good’ bullshit in my face, as if the Survey Corporation was some evil thing I was being shielded from. It’s a lost cause.”

Marco pondered this for a minute before saying, “I could help you find more out about it if you want.”

That caught me off guard. “Marco this stuff is old news, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. It sounds like something worth looking into. Plus my dad works with a separate branch of the Survey Corporation, I could access more information that way.”

I was surprised to say the least. I wasn’t sure if Marco was doing this out of the goodness of his heart or if he was just trying to nuzzle up to me somehow. _Can’t you just accept he’s a good fucking person?_ I glanced up at him and smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Marco.”

He looked flushed and shrugged. “No big deal. I want to help you out.”

Marissa dragged us out of our conversation to showcase the… rabbit (I’m guessing) she’d doodled on the kids menu. Pizza sauce was smeared across her chin and Marco leaned over to wipe it away with a napkin. The whole scene was kinda endearing, her chocolate brown eyes shut tight with laughter as Marco pulled her close to thumb away the mess. I was glad some people in the world had solid families to lean on.

As per usual, my phone buzzed to life with Nanna’s called ID, and I realized it was already 1:30. I picked up my phone and hovered over the answer button, internally struggling with what to do. I didn’t want to talk to her, but if I ignored her I was probably gonna get an earful later. _I have every reason to be pissed with her right now_. I hit ignore and set the phone back down, turning my attention back to Marco and his sister.

“Everything alright?” he questioned, gesturing towards my phone.

“Yeah. Nothing I want to deal with right now.” Thankfully he decided not to push the subject and went on to talk about something relating to school the following week. I did my best to follow, nodding as he spoke and even adding in my own comments when I was sure I had heard something right. Eventually, he was ready to go, pulling Marissa up out of her seat and guiding her out of the restaurant.

It was only 2 o’clock, but the sky was dark with clouds. The shadow that had gathered overhead thundered and Marissa squealed, clinging tight to Marco’s arm. He mumbled something to her before turning his attention to me and motioning for us to walk to the car.

I felt bad for Marissa; she was clearly shaken up by the loud claps of thunder. They practically shook the city. I turned in my seat and said, “Hey, are you okay?”

She peeked at me through the curtain her hair was providing. She nodded and sniffled.

 _C’mon, you took every theatre elective known to mankind Kirschtein. Improvise_. “Y’know,” I said, pointing out the window at the sky. “You can tell how far away the lightning is just by counting. It’s called the flash-to-bang method.”

It was an opportunity to calm her down; she was seven and naive and afraid of a natural phenomenon. So don’t judge how I knew this. Her face seemed to light up right there, and for a moment she resembled Marco identically. “Really!?”

“Mhm, you wait until you see lightning, then count until you hear thunder. Then divide that number by five.”

She crinkled her nose at me. “Is it math?”

“It’s easy math. You must have learned to divide by now.” I insinuated.

“Doesn’t mean I hafta like it.” She paused. “Are you good at math?”

My cocky grin slid into place and I said, “I’m great at math. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it either.”

After that, Marissa was glued to the window, counting under her breathe for every flash of lightning that decorated the sky. Marco pulled up to the park, pointing to where my own car was still sitting idle. “Thanks for tagging along today,” he started. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded and made sure my wallet and phone were still on me before opening the door. “Yeah. Only a few more weeks before we graduate though. Dunno what the hell comes after that.”

More thunder echoed overhead and Marco made a comment about not wanting to get fried in an SUV. Marissa shouted something about lightning being 12 miles away, when in reality I was positive she just counted the seconds and thought that was it. I smiled back at her before feeling my phone go off (I was really getting tired of hearing the damn trill ringtone) and I dug it out of my pocket.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon sir, is this Jean Kirschtein?”

I checked the called ID and saw it was Nanna’s phone, but definitely not Nanna’s voice. “...Yes. Who is this? Where’s my grandma?”

“I’m very sorry sir. We’re going to have to ask you to get to the Trost Community Center as quick as you can, there’s been an accident.”

 _Fuck, is she okay?_ “What happened? Where’s my grandma? Put her on the phone.”

“Sir, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to get to the community center before-”

“Don’t fucking sugarcoat this, you called me from her damn phone. Where is she? Why won’t you just let me talk to her?”

“Mr. Kirschtein, I’m very sorry. There was a robbery, your grandmother was shot.” I froze and felt Marco put a hand on my shoulder, silently asking what was happening. “She’s dead.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this took forever! i really have no excuse except i got my gaming computer back and also organizing some summer plans.  
> also sorry if i break anyone with this chapter, i get it, nanna was great  
> keyword, was. so sorry :')


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst Angst Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand only 4 days over my deadline. welp :')
> 
> have marco pov as an apology

**Marco**

 

He was gone. Bolted. Didn’t explain anything to me, just took off. I was worried, yeah, but that bad part of me was pissed he dodged my questions and left. Marissa’s quiet voice spoke up a few times on the ride back home, asking what had upset Jean. I was just honest with her.

“I don’t know, Marissa. I wish I knew too.”

I knew it was pointless to try, but I called him anyways. He didn’t pick up.

Mom questioned why I was so out of it at dinner. “Sorry, just worried about a friend.” She didn’t push the topic and I was grateful.

When I went to school the next day and realized Jean wasn’t there, I got more worried. _The phone call did sound bad; what had happened?_ Eren and Reiner spent all of lunch giving each other pointers for football practice and teasing me when I zoned out.

“Did you get laid or something? That’d put anyone out of it.” Reiner joked. Eren laughed along with him and I frowned, tuning them out as Annie and Berthold walked over to join us. Normally I could handle their antics, but not today.

 _I know where he lives, I could drive over to check on him_. No, what? What was I thinking? Jean had been right to be wary around me; I was someone new, he would be put off by me intruding into his life.

I told myself that the next two days, biting down on my instincts to check on him every time I noticed he wasn't’t in Mr. Shadis’ physics class. I’ll be honest, part of me missed him. His lanky figure drowned in a hoodie was a regular part of my day, when I walked by. I’d always noticed him shoving books into his locker and aggressively tapping on his phone, brows pushed together to form some kind of concentrated look. If you looked close enough, his tongue stuck out of his mouth a little when he got in the zone like that. Personally I found it adorable.

When Thursday rolled around and he still hadn’t shown up, I stayed after class to talk to Mr. Shadis.

“Marco, what can I do for you?” he asked as he shuffled papers around on his desk. Half of them had coffee rings lining the corners.

“I was wondering if you knew anything about why Jean wasn’t here the past few days. I was hanging out with him on Sunday and uh…” Mr. Shadis finally looked up and quirked an eyebrow at me.

“Why is that your concern, Mr. Bodt?”

“I-It’s not! I was just worried, he got a bad phone call Sunday and took off. I haven’t heard from him since.”

The old guy bent backwards, cracking his back before sighing and picking up his briefcase. “If Kirschtein is interested in sharing the reason for his absence, please enlighten me.”

Oh? “You mean you don’t know?”

“I know _something_ happened. Word was floating around the office a few days ago some kid was having family complications I guess. Didn’t bother checking in on it though, I mean, seen one case seen em’ all.” He shrugged on his jacket and gestured to the door. “I think your best bet is asking him directly Bodt. That kid has always been the kind to linger in shallower waters.”

Reluctantly I trudged through the door and turned to watch him lock his door. “You say that as if you know him.” I half asked, half accused.

He snorted. “I knew that kid his whole life, he’d never admit it though. Dad was a friend of mine. Pity what happened to them, may they be restin’ in peace. Been messed up ever since.” He shook his head sadly and shoved his keys back into his pocket. He mumbled something about grading the tests we’d taken last week and shuffled off down the hall.

I decided I really didn’t care if Jean would be mad about me stopping by his house. I just started my car and sent him a text telling him I was planning on breaking down the door if he didn’t open it himself. I knew he wouldn’t return it, but again, I didn’t care.

Jean _had_ told me about his parents, but I never really pushed for more than that. It didn’t surprise me that he was still messed up about it, I mean, who wouldn’t be? That’s a traumatic thing for a kid to go through. I guess hearing from an outside party that Jean had never gotten over it was more of a “duh” moment for me than anyone. Antisocial? Definitely. Tempermental? I’d seen Jean in the office the past four years more than anyone. Coming from an office assistant that was saying something. Minor things I thought just pointed to him not being a people person, were _more_ than that. And if he really was going through something terrible, I didn’t want him to be alone.

I parked my car in the same spot I had my last time here and hurried out. There was a key pad next to the car scanner and I cursed, having completely forgotten that important piece of information.

An elderly janitor slowly shuffled by the door, mop in hand as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. I was quick to knock on the glass hard enough to get his attention. Cautiously he pushed open the door.

“Can I help you, son?”

“Yeah, sorry, I left my keys upstairs.”

He narrowed his old, ulcer filled eyes at me before declaring, “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Yeah I’m visiting. Jean Kirschtein’s my cousin.” I tried not to really think how disturbing that thought was to me.

His face softened and he pushed open the door for me to walk in. “Ah, I see. My condolences then.” _Oh, no_. “You might want to empty out his mailbox too, it’s been piling up all week. Sympathetic friends, I suppose.”

He immediately went back to mopping at the same time I was trying to remember how to breathe. _His grandma died?_ That was it then, wasn’t it? It made sense.

The ride up was way too long, and when I finally reached the seventh floor, I had to stop to make out what I was seeing. There were bouquets of flowers _engulfing_ the lower half of the door. Cards littered the hallway, half of them knocked over by the breeze that carried through the window at the end of the hall. There were teddy bears, a few knitting needles propped against the wall. The condolences left by people in the complex along with friends, I imagined.

When was the last time he’d left the apartment? Everything was still situated neatly against the door, as though no one had opened the door at all. I stepped over the mountain of toys and cards, knocking on the door.

No reply came so I tried again. “Jean? It’s Marco. Open the door.” At that, I heard something clatter to the ground from inside. “Jean?”

Footsteps neared the door and then stopped. “Go away Marco.”

“Jean, please let me in. It’s been days since anyone’s seen you-”

“I don’t _want_ to see anyone.” he snapped. There was an edge to his voice and I decided to tread lightly.

“I know, I don’t blame you.” I stepped on one of the teddy bears already knocked aside and jumped when it squeaked.

The front door opened a crack and a baggy, amber eye glared through at me. His attention wavered, however, once he saw the mess waiting to happen if he pulled the door back anymore.

I rubbed my neck and gently nudged the teddy bear back into the horde, glancing up at him. He pulled the door back a little more so I could see his face completely, and I knew I’d been right to worry.

He was definitely thinner, but still healthy looking in that department. The bags under his eyes were scary and all too noticeable. _When was the last time he’d slept?_ His face was sallow and his hair disheveled. He clearly hadn’t showered in days.

It seemed to pain him to do it but reluctantly he pulled the door back and the mountain toppled inside. He didn’t look at it.

“Why are you here?”

“Can we not have this conversation in the hallway? Please?”

He fixed me with another hard look, and I shrunk into my jacket. Instinctively. He must have relented or felt bad because he turned away from me and walked back further into the apartment, but he left the door open. I pushed what stuff had already fallen into the house out of the door’s path then closed it on the rest.

It was freezing inside, the bigger windows by the fire escape were open. There were a few books on the floor, but what threw me was seeing all the picture frames turned down. I distinctly remember Nana showing me through their tiny apartment, showing me the pictures that hung in the halls and the ones by the TV. Now they were face down.

Jean cleared his throat and I looked at him. His sweats hung loosely on his hips, revealing a glorious sliver of hip bone. He was… more muscular than I’d thought. Toned. He was also looking at me through narrowed eyes, while his hair hung in front of his eyes.

“So?” he started. That edge was still there.

Sighing, I braced myself. I’d yet to face Jean mad but I really didn’t want to poke bruises with him now. I chose my words carefully, “How are you holding up?”

A sharp bark of laughter blurted from his lips and he shook his head morosely, still smirking harshly. “So you heard too then? No, obviously you did. What, is it the talk of the town now? Elderly woman gunned down after minding her own fucking business? People find that small talk worthy?”

“Jean you know that’s not true-”

“Isn’t it?” he countered. “I didn’t tell anyone. Everyone’s been bothering me about it though. Apparently since I didn’t shove the occasion in their face they all decided to shove it in mine.”

I didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t okay, anyone could see that. He was self destructing, the way he was shutting everything out with anger, the snide comments.

“Jean, I don’t understand…”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. You’re happy. You have a completed, whole family, people who aren’t dead. Stop trying to be all empathetic when you’re clueless about what you’re trying to empathize with.”

To say I was shocked was an understatement. I’d never seen this side of him, granted I hadn’t been around long enough to have even seen it. But I wasn’t about to let him push me away too. Being alone was the last thing he needed.

“You know it’s okay to feel sad about it, right?”

He laughed again, and it sounded scratchy and forced. “I’ve already dealt with this sort of thing before, remember?” It looked like he wanted to say more but he just huffed and ran his fingers through his tangled hair.

“She wouldn’t want you to be shutting yourself off like this.”

At that, he jerked back to life. He seemed to accept what I said for a split second before that scowl returned. “How would _you_ know what she wants?”

“Because I was lucky enough to meet her, and she’s one of the brightest people I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting.” I stated. “She was adamant about you bringing people over, I remember she told me that. She wanted you to be happy, branch out. Didn’t want you to be tied down in the past or worry so much about her.”

“She was the only good thing I had left!” he blurted. I snapped my mouth shut and waited for him to continue. He looked really reluctant to say anything else, but when he looked back at me he crumbled and addressed the wall instead of looking at me directly. “She… I don’t know it’s stupid. She was just so _good_ and I wasn’t there to _tell her that_. I-”

His voice cracked and I resisted the urge to go and hold him, to reassure him and tell him it would be alright. “When she called I didn’t pick up. I was angry because she didn’t tell me about my parents and I felt… I don’t know, betrayed, they’re my parents and she didn’t tell my anything for so long and I was just so _stubborn_ and upset, if I’d picked up the phone maybe she wouldn’t have-”

“Hey hey, no, Jean, you can’t think that, okay? It’s not your fault what happened, to your parents, to Nana, okay? None of it is your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I’d moved closer so I was standing right in front of him, my hands gently placed on his trembling shoulders.

He only shook his head and curled in on himself slightly, eventually resting his head on my chest. He didn’t say anything, just sniffled and cried quietly. I let him, rubbing circles on his back like I did with Marissa when she got sad. He gripped the hem of my jacket and tugged on it, just to have something to hold, to ground him.

“Why-” his voice broke again and a sob slipped through. “...why does the bad stuff happen to good people?”

I didn’t answer, instead letting us stay like that for a few minutes. He didn’t cry loud, so I wasn’t aware he’d fallen asleep until I tried to nudge him off my chest. I was close enough so he was basically just leaning against me, yet still propped up on the couch. I twisted myself so my legs were bent as I scooped him into my arms easily. _He’s light…_

I carried him down the hall and pushed his door open with my foot, then carefully set him down on his bed. The orange glow from outside warmed and illuminated the room, making it seem smaller and cozier. I pulled the blinds closed so the light wouldn’t shine in Jean’s eyes.

I turned to go back out into the living room, but he mumbled something. I turned and saw his eye cracked open at me. His face was puffy from crying, his hair tossed sideways in his face, blearyeyed. The whole image was adorable.

I crouched next to his bed to make out what he was saying.

“Stay.” It was quiet, barely a whisper yet so loud in desperation. “Please.” He croaked out the last bit, eyes closing and exhaustion overwhelming him.

I smiled and pulled a soccer beanbag chair from the corner and settled in. I shrugged off my coat and laid it across my lap, readying for what would be a long night.

 

***

I woke to thrashing and creaking coming from the bed. My eyes snapped open and I gave myself a couple second to adjust to the darkness. The digital clock on the bedside table read 12:56, and for a second I realized I’d never texted Mom to tell her I was taking a detour.

All those concerns flew from my mind once I heard Jean _whimper_. I was up and by his bed, gently shaking him at first to try to wake him.

“Jean? Jean wake up, it’s okay. It’s a dream.”

He shot up and narrowly collided with my head, his breathing heavy and nails digging into my arm.

“Marco?”

“I’m here, I’m right here Jean. It’s alright.”

He collapsed back on to his pillow and slung his arm over his face. When he didn’t say anything I asked, “Bad dream?”

“I…” he paused and moved his arm to look up at me. He looked so… pitiful. “I don’t want to think about it…” It was him gently refusing to talk about it, and I respected that.

“Okay, no problem. Marissa has bad dreams all the time, usually she runs to me in the middle of the night when she does.”

Pondering this, I noticed his breathing return to normal. “Can you tell me about her?”

“About Marissa?” He nodded. “That wouldn’t bore you?”

“Please, Marco?”

He didn’t need to say anything else. “Alright. Uhm, she was born in November. I remember I was 11 at the time and I knew nothing about childbirth and I’m pretty sure I started crying when my Mom ran downstairs screaming about going into labor.”

I went on, delving into the story of my little sister’s birth and (in great detail) the disaster that was her fifth birthday party at the Community Park. I talked about how one of the other kids started picking up cupcakes by their tops and feeding them to the dogs in the field. I also mentioned it was the same kid who opened my sister’s presents and was inclined to believe it was _his_ birthday too.

After a while Jean’s blissful smile was replaced with his usual frown, lips parted slightly. His shirt had ridden up, leaving his lower torso exposed.

 _Happy trail. Shit_. I stood up and pulled my phone from my pocket, dialing my Mom’s number and proceeding to explain to her exactly _why_ I wasn’t home at 1 AM. She was, thankfully, understanding once I’d mentioned it was Jean I was checking on. I was brief on the explanation of his Grandma dying, I didn’t feel that it was right to talk about _here_. In Jean’s house.

By the time I hung up, I’d established two things. One; I was definitely staying over the rest of the night. It didn’t feel right leaving Jean alone now of all times. That, and my mother had basically given my leave for the night, telling me to offer condolences to Jean for her.

And two? Reason two… I was falling for a guy who had lost everything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly ?? i wasnt sure how i wanted to take this chapter and i thought id switch it up a bit as a kind of sorry for taking SO long once again.  
> aaha i live for marco finding out, that'll be something else...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Action is like a domino affect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit we're getting somewhere

I was… better. Marco showing up was something I’d anticipated from the beginning. The fact that it took him three days was the only surprising part. When I woke up and saw him sprawled on my tiny soccer bean bag chair I was a little wary. He’d stayed? I knew it was late when I woke up from that… bad nightmare, but the fact he actually stayed the whole night was a curious thing.

But I’m still a coward, and I knew he’d have more questions I didn’t want to answer. Questions I didn’t know the answers to. So I left, making use of my newfound powers to scale the apartment building up to the roof. I hated myself for it, but I pulled out a cigarette and went at it for a good half and hour. _Old habits die hard_ , I thought, thinking back to freshmen year when I got into all the bad side hobbies Nanna threatened to ground me for.

The sun was in the process of peeking over the horizon, at that perfect in between stage where the sun was a low pink but still dark the higher you looked. Dawn was probably my favorite time of day. I could hear the sounds of blinds being pulled and curtains getting thrown open as people woke up for the day.

_What day is it? I think it’s a Friday_. Smoke curled in my lungs, mixing with the cold air once I exhaled. School came to mind and I contemplated the possibilities surrounding it. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to go back. There was too much to do now, now that I was on my own. Basically. I turned eighteen soon and knew I’d be fine living alone.

I thought of Marco and how he’d basically throw himself into traffic for me. I wasn’t stupid; I picked up on the vibes he was giving off. I also wasn’t blind, considering I saw him eyeballing my crotch the other day. I wasn’t entirely opposed to it but regardless, I think my own life needed a lot of consideration before I went and reciprocated anything.

The familiar sound of traffic raging beyond the tiny crowded streets of Trost were as welcomed distraction, the blaring of horns taking my mind off everything. Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated? I extinguished my cigarette and flicked it over the edge of the building, silently hating myself for having picked such a shitty habit up once again. There were shouts beyond the apartment complexes on the street and I briefly considered checking it out. It was too early for anyone to be yelling. But then again, it was too early for me to move fast especially considering I hadn’t had any coffee.

The angel on my shoulder punched me in the head and started up my moral compass. I swung my legs over the ledge of the building and stood up, focusing on the shouts and where they were coming from. Everything was still, no trees moved from any wind, I didn’t even hear any dogs. But I heard the yelling, and it was coming from about a block away.

I headed for the staircase that lead back inside the building but stopped dead in my tracks. _It’d be faster to just, oh, I don’t know, swing there_.

I would, without a doubt, end up killing myself.

_Grow the fuck up Jean, you scaled the wall, you can swing across the street to check it out_.

My internal monologue was cut short when another scream reached my hypersensitive ears. A sense of dread was settling in the pit of my stomach and I realized I was going to have to do or die. Literally.

I approached the ledge again and teetered over the edge. I could do this… yeah. I already knew how my web shooting worked and in the event this _didn’t_ go south, it was a learning experience. I could also potentially save someone. Not that I was dreaming of doing any of that now, but at this point in time it was a possibility.

I am in no way, shape, or form religious, but I prayed to whatever higher power existed to please make my possible descent into death painless. Refusing to think about it any more, I pushed off the ledge and immediately felt my stomach drop through my ass. It took a split second to rationally decide I should try to avoid becoming sidewalk paint and shot a web straight into the apartment building across from me. I gripped it for dear life and felt myself propel forward straight for the building. After the incident in the warehouse I knew better than to just sit there and let another web shoot from my wrist diagonally into yet another apartment building.

The feeling was unbelievable. It was as if I was actually _flying_ , and I realized I probably was. No one else could be able to perform something as batshit crazy as this and unless you were willing to pay an arm and a leg to jump in some wind tunnel, this was actual freedom.

A garbled cry reached my ears and brought me back to the task at hand. With surprising ease I swung through the narrow streets and grabbed a hold of an apartment balcony ledge. The confidence that my body felt in terms of me not falling was reassuring considering my brain was contradicting that, spazzing out. But directly beneath me a young girl, probably fifteen or so cowered in fear as a much larger, bulkier man riffled through a backpack I could only imagine was hers. Her sniffles reached me these three stories up and a deep unadulterated hatred rushed over me. I was done with pigs like this one taking advantage of weaker people. Nanna immediately came to mind, her gentle smile and kind eyes fueling my hate for bullies like this guy.

Without a seconds hesitation I let go of the edge, plummeting but not worried, and landed crouched directly behind the blundering goon. He had half a mind to spin around with an already scared look on his face and a grim sense of satisfaction swept through me. _Good. Be afraid._

“Where the hell did you come from, kid?” The condescending tone he used couldn’t mask his confusion. He chanced a glance up and tried to figure out how exactly I’d managed dropping fifty feet without seriously injuring myself.

Standing up straight to my full 5’9” height didn’t give me much on this guy; he was at least six feet. But he was also clumsy, I could tell by the way he gripped the bag by the straps and nearly tripped over his feet to back up when I neared him.

“You’re pathetic,” I practically seethed at him. My anger was running the show, and I was content to say the moral, good side of me had kicked its feet up to watch the show. “Give her back the bag and walk away. Maybe you’ll walk away alright,” I shrugged. “Maybe not.”

He grinned, though it looked more like a grimace and bared a set (if you could call six a set) of yellow teeth at me. “A hero, eh? That’s mighty stupid of you, boy.” Behind him the girl hid her face behind the curtain of blonde hair that concealed it, but her eyes were wide with hope.

“I won’t ask again.” I said, taking another daring step forward. This time, however, the goon stood his ground and tightened his grip on the bag. He looked around as if he was just planning to run with the bag, not bothering to fight.

_Not today_ , I thought.

Just as he took the first lunge around me, my leg snaked out and caught him around his midsection. I twisted my hips, sending him flying backwards into the brick wall. He hit it with a grunt and released the bag, and with a surprising amount of courage the girl shot forward on all fours to snatch it away from his feet. He didn’t notice though, he was too focused on me. His pasty white face turned bright red as he let his emotions run his own show, although in a much more entertaining manor.

He charged for me, spit flying from his chapped lips with arms outstretched. I ducked out of the way, more than amused at the attempts he was pulling in vain. Like a bull, all he was seeing was red, and he turned much quicker than I anticipated. This time when he swatted his hand out, he grabbed a hold of my shirt and yanked me forward.

“Arrogant little boy, wanting to play rescue? I don’t think so-” I took advantage of his brief one sentence monologue to slam the meaty part of my palm right under his chin. Blood was pouring down his face, and I realized he must have bitten his tongue.

“Thun-of-a-bitthhh!” More blood dotted the ground around him as he spoke, and honestly it just grossed me out. I brought my right leg up, roundhouse kicking him in the side of the head. He went down like a sack of bricks.

I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. Normally after executing so many tedious moves in martial arts, I’d at least be winded. I contributed my lack of breath shortness to the spider abilities I’d assumed at the Survey Corporation building. I could hear the younger girl behind me breathing heavily, her heart was pounding wildly. I turned around cautiously, looking at her over my shoulder. She didn’t look hurt, and if anything she was just rattled.

“You alright?” I asked anyways. She nodded, blonde hair bouncing around her heart shaped face.

“Thank you… so much. I owe you my life.” I doubted that, this doofus only seemed like a money hungry addict in search of his next hit. But I nodded at her all the same and turned around to offer her my hand. She took it and hauled herself up, still clutching her backpack tightly to her chest.

“I-” she stopped and ran her eyes all over my face, searching for some sign of… something. I didn’t know. She should have taken a picture while she was at it. “I have to go to school.”

Ah, made sense. Young kid, and it was Friday. I realized then that I really hadn’t had any intention of going to school today. That probably still stood.

“You want me to walk you there?” She practically beamed up at me and smiled.

“Thank you.”

We walked for about fifteen minutes, and in that time I learned her name was Christa. She was a sophomore and went to my high school. I made a mental note to be cautious around school, not to let her spill the beans about me being the one to save the day. It was just unwanted attention in my mind. She participated in band, had two brothers and one sister, and worked in the newspaper’s editorial department. Which meant she’d undoubtedly seen the pictures I’d snagged during the field trip to bizarro town.

“I loved your pictures,” she said, proving my point. “You seem to focus more on angular photography. It’s really pleasing.”

I wouldn’t deny my pride enjoyed the praise. She knew what she was talking about to boot, which made it all that much better. “You can thank Hannah for the pictures. I wasn’t even planning on going on that trip.” I shrugged, coming to a stop in front of the school.

She looked at me curiously before furrowing her brow. “You’re not coming?” she asked. A harsh laugh bubbled up in my throat but I swallowed it. If only she knew.

“Nah, taking today off. Took the whole week of, really. Plus I’ve got someone waiting at home.” My mind reeled once I remembered Marco was probably sitting in my living room pacing. Or he’d left. But I doubted that.

Her cheeks flushed with color before I realize how that must’ve sounded. “Oh. I see.”

“Shit, no, not like that. I swear. Just a friend stayed the night.” Why was I defending myself? And why was I feeling a blush creep up my neck?

“Right, I got it.” She gave me a reassuring smile which, really wasn’t reassuring at all. “Thank you again, Jean. I’ll see you around.” She turned around and made straight for the library, which made her showing up to school at 7 o’clock much more reasonable.

I made my way home quickly, using the old fashioned walking method for the first few blocks. Then I swung my way up to the seventh floor and literally crashed through my living room window. It was, thankfully, open. But that didn’t stop me from failing to land gracefully and instead sent me rolling into the coffee table. The coasters that were laid out neatly scattered around me and I heard a mug being set down in the kitchen.

“Jean?” Marco called. He rounded the corner and looked utterly confused as to why I was on the floor covered in coasters and magazines. Also a bit weirded out as to how I’d ended up in the living room if he hadn’t known I was gone.

“Morning.” I said, albeit a little too cheerfully for a morning. He picked up on this and narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t mean to impose on your privacy, or whatever, but how in the world did you get inside? You weren’t here when I woke up.” A bit of red snuck its way up his neck and settled in his cheeks, and I smiled besides myself.

“I was on the roof, outside. Fire exit goes all the way up.” I stated matter of factly, which wasn’t entirely a lie. I had been up there. I stood up and picked up the coasters and reading material, setting them back on the table.

Marco gasped and I froze. “Jean, you’re shirt! What the hell happened?”

I looked down and saw tiny yet noticeable droplets of blood stained the front. The grey of the shirt did nothing to hide them, and only made them stand out more against the contrast. “It’s not mine,” was my immediate reaction. That just made Marco freak out more.

“What?! Did you go and get into a fight on the _roof_? Jean, what the hell?!” The way he addressed me wasn’t so much angry, more concerned laced with confusion. Maybe even hurt. He thought I was lying.

I held up my hands in attempt to calm him down and realized then he had a grade A case of bedhead. _Awh, priceless_.

“Jean?” He asked again, snapping my attention back to him.

“I ran into one of the older tenants and he had a bloody nose.” _Aha, nice recovery Kirschtein_.

“On the roof?” _Fuck_.

“Yeah, he smokes.” I tried my best to say that with a ‘duh’ face but I realized there were so many ways he could counter that. ‘Why not smoke out the fire escape’ is what I first expected but instead he just shook his head and waved me off like he was exhausted.

“Whatever… you’re not hurt?” His big brown puppy eyes gleamed with unshed tears it seemed, but I realized they were just unnaturally shiny.

“I promise, I’m fine.” That seemed to help the tension leak from his shoulders and he slouched a bit, more relaxed.

“Good. I hope you don’t mind I’ll make you breakfast.” Like I minded people making me food, it’s how I woke up for the past nine years. The reminder stung at the back of my eyes and I blinded roughly, nodded in response. In that moment I really appreciated what Marco was doing. He hadn’t stated it clearly, but judging by his wrinkled jeans and t-shirt, he wasn’t exactly planning to head home or to school. Instead he just offered the invitation of breakfast and wanted to make sure I was okay.

After the morning I’d had, the caring attitude came with a relief.

 

***

Marco wound up sticking around until noon. He made eggs and bacon for breakfast, even managing to whip up something relatively edible with oatmeal and bananas to go along with it. It was the first decent meal I’d had since Nanna, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t eternally fucking grateful for his efforts.

They weren’t efforts made in vain, I definitely perked up afterwards.

We spent the morning watching cartoons, and he insisted on a pretty good comedy show about a cat and a fish that Marissa apparently “adored”. He went to the bathroom at one point and I took the opportunity to check the news for any mention of apprehended crack heads in the neighborhood, but there was nothing.

While part of me was grateful the whole scuffle could just be swept under the rug, another part of me regretted not stringing the guy up by his toes and leaving him there for authorities.

Around eleven Marco’s mom called, and was surprisingly lax with the whole “Why aren’t you at school” deal. Call me paranoid or just plain rude, but I maybe, kiiiind of listened in.

“How’s your friend, sweetie?”

“He’s good. Better, I think. I’m sorry I didn’t text you again, I promise I’ll-”

A soft laugh that filled me with an odd sense of comfort cut him off. “It’s alright, Marco. You rarely ever miss school, and I’m proud of you for being so kind for your friend. If he ever wants to come over, you extend the invite.”

It was after that I bowed out and let him finish the rest of his conversation without my eavesdropping. So Marco had mentioned me to his parents? I guess I wasn’t really surprised, considering their concerns came from applicable places. Missing school and all that for some sorrow stricken loner. He truly was a saint.

After another five minutes of back and forth chatter, he hung up the phone and came back into the living room.

“I should head out. Marissa has a half-day today and I’ve got to pick her up.”

Part of me momentarily froze up at the thought of him leaving. Of me being alone again. Being alone meant I was left with my thoughts, and I really didn’t want that. Not after the past week of hell I’d gone through. Marco’s presence here was really the only thing that kept me grounded.

Instead of responding, I nodded and flashed a smile that I hope didn’t look pained.

He paused for a moment, his thumb tracing the ridges on his house key. “You sure you’ll be alright?”

_No_. “Yeah.” I nodded back at the TV. “This show isn’t half bad, I’ll keep at it. Give Marissa my thanks.”

My lighthearted comment seemed to reassure him and he smiled at me again, flashing dimples. Had those always been there? “I’ll swing by when I can.” And with that, he left. I was happy he hadn’t actually said the words ‘good-bye’. I think hearing that would have sent me into a full blown panic attack, really setting that you’ll-forever-be-alone-in-grief vibe in stone.

As long as Marco stuck around, I held on to hope that maybe I’d be alright. That I wouldn’t be as lost and broken as I originally thought. He was the closest thing to a friend… truthfully probably my only friend right now. For all the shit that had been smeared on the walls of my life lately, I was pretty sure having a friend would come in handy.

My mind flicked back to the fight I’d landed myself in this morning. As nice a girl as Christa was, I couldn’t afford to have people knowing about my abilities. Though I’d primarily relied on martial arts in that situation, I knew without a doubt whatever instincts I was adapting to go along with this power were working their way to the surface.

I was wanting to use them more and more, and God forbid someone ever _saw_ me scaling a brick wall in sneakers and with no harness.

Nanna had a sewing machine, and while I was all about just hand stitching holes in shirts back together, she was all about patching everything up top notch. I took it out of her room, careful not to disturb any of her other things and made my way back into my own room.

All I needed was a mask, right? Something to conceal my face and prevent pictures getting out and fucking over the peaceful, poor kid setting I had going for me. I knew my height, along with the majority of my other measurements. I could just go to Joann’s fabrics and buy a crap ton of stitching materials to make a mask and have some saved for repairs.

Had I known I’d waste more than a week stitching together the most spandex-tastic uniform ever, I wouldn’t have bothered with the ‘just the mask’ bit. Not for a second. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i don't really know how to explain the 2 month absence and i think trying to would just be rude so i won't bother.   
> i'm sorry, but thank you all who sent me messages to encourage me to keep going! this story will in no way be abandoned, i can promise that much :^)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco POV makes a return, as well as the Survey Corporation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (lemme know if there's any mistakes or spelling errors! i do make en effort to go back and fix those)

**Marco**

 

I’d never intended on lying to Jean. Never in my life had I been a particularly good liar, but when the skill graced me with its presence, I usually did okay. Jean had visibly faltered when I told him I had to go, and while part of me was wailing at the thought of leaving him alone at such a bad time, I had things to take care of.

Things that most certainly did not involve picking up Marissa due to a half day.

Call me all the names you want, but it was because of Jean I was even making this trip an hour North.

It was around three when I pulled into the Survey Corporation parking lot, and though it was a Friday, not many cars were parked. In fact, it was eerily silent as I walked from my car to the front doors. The familiar, futuristic setting the main lobby had going on was still there, only there was one person behind the counter as opposed to the seven or so that had huddled together on the day of our field trip. For a corporation known world wide I was somewhat surprised.

“Good afternoon,” the secretary said. Her 5’5” stature was startling, along with how young she looked. Her shaggy, light brown hair hung just below her chin and she was… smiling. Like, really smiling. The color or her eyes reminded me of Jean’s, only colder. How old was she?

“Hi.” I said, my eyes flicking everywhere but where she was. My eyes happened to glance over the name tag she wore. _Hitch._ Weird name. She cocked her head to the side, still smiling and standing irregularly straight.

“Can I help you? Or are you looking for interior decorating inspiration?” My eyes flicked back to hers and her smile grew even though I was positive her face would split.

“I’m trying to get to IT. My dad works up there.” Better to keep this brief.

“Sure thing, sweet cheeks,” _Oh god_. “That’s the 31st level. Everything spreads out over one floor so it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Part of me wanted to ask why there was no security protocol for allowing some random eighteen year old upstairs on his own, but decided against it. I nodded and turned to head for the elevator on the far side of the room. I could practically feel her eyes on my backside and was beyond relieved when the elevator doors freed me from her creep stare.

I’d have to ask Dad about her later.

The elevators here ran fast and I was at the 31st floor in under two minutes. I partially considered it was because there was no one here to stop the elevator on different floors. I stepped out into the hallway and my eyes immediately fell on the hunched over forms of workers hastily typing away at computers.

I stalked a circle around the room, probably coming across as some sort of predator until I found my dad, lazily sipping coffee from the cracked red mug he brought from home everyday.

I hurried across the massive office space and crouched at the side of his desk, tapping on it to alert him. “Dad-”

He jerked forward and spit coffee, barely managing to hold back the rest as it dripped from his lips. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and squeezed my hand over my mouth to silence my laughter. A few heads turned in out direction and Dad shook his head, reluctantly using the back of his tie to wipe off his chin.

“Marco, really? What are you doing here? Your mother told me you weren’t at school today but that hardly explains this.” His brow furrowed in confusion, then concern. “Everything’s okay right?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Believe me, it’s fine. I’m doing research.”

He quirked a bushy brow at me and leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees. “You’re doing research?”

I nodded.

“At… my work?”

Ah, right. “It’s connected to your work. Or to the company in general. I need access to the company archives.”

He looked utterly exasperated. “Oh, that’s it? Would you like to offer a reason with that request?”

Oh cripes. “Dad I know it’s a little fishy but it’s perfectly fine, I promise. A friend of mine had parents who worked here and didn’t know about it, I just want to dig up some information to put his mind at ease.”

He didn’t seem reassured. “Marco that is incredibly PI of you, but is it really any of your business what your friend has going on in his life?”

No. “He needs this, Dad. It’s Jean. He’s got no one right now and I really think this’ll help.”

He relaxed drastically, shoulders slouching as he rubbed the stubble along his squared jaw. “Ah, yeah, the orphan boy?”

I cringed and said a little harsher than intended “Don’t call him that!”

Another condescending stare. “My bad. I trust you Marco.” He effortlessly unclipped his ID badge from his belt and set it on the desk before standing up and stretching. “I’m going for a walk, be back in thirty minutes.”

I watched his retreating form for a moment, confused before I understood what he’d done. I’d have to remember to thank him later.

I slipped into his desk chair and figuratively tripped over everything that showed up on the screen. Thankfully the connection to IT my Dad possessed let me search through files effortlessly, until I found the data cache that connected to the files dating back more than five years. When I tried opening that, a notification in the lower left of the screen popped up and presented the security message.

 

_Data Cache jp_2006-p:_

_User: JB7511_

_Password:_

 

Comparing the badge left behind, I keyed in the code and grinned when a fairly long list of information was revealed. My heart sank, however, when I realized just how long the list was. This was going to take longer than I thought.

My planning ahead was rewarded, and I pulled out a flash drive and copied the endless selection of files in a matter of minutes. Made sense for the Survey Corporation to have the most advanced technology known to mankind in order to pull that off. I stuck the drive back in my pocket and pretended to be scrolling through some random file near the top of the list for when my dad returned.

“Shoot, that’s as far as you got?” he inquired, exactly a half hour after he’d left. I sighed and closed the open files and returned the computer to the home page.

Shrugging in pretend defeat I stood up and gave him a half hearted smile. “I wasn’t expecting to strike gold. I really wasn’t expecting anything. Thanks for letting me look though.”

My acting must have been pretty good because he looked genuinely upset for me. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and muttered, “Try Google? Might be faster, only more cryptic.”

Before I could respond one of his co-workers spoke up from somewhere deep in the rows of IT workers. “Jonathan, get over here! Malware on a software installation!”

He sighed, “Duty calls,” and hurried off to work his tech magic. I left, waiting any second for someone to stop me in my tracks and question me. I was nervous as hell as I climbed back in the elevator and rode down in absolute terror at the possibility of security waiting for me at the bottom.

But nothing ever came. Literally, nothing. Hitch had vanished from her spot at the reception desk and no one could be seen in the vast stretch of lobby no matter where I looked.

To say I was pleased to get out of there was an understatement, but I was overjoyed at having gotten the information. Jean would be thrilled, if he even remembered. He’d seemed excited about learning more about his parents, but all this was before he’d gotten the call about his grandma. The reminder of him being in such a bad place drove a sense of urgency through me and I was eager to get back to him.

 _Whoa, slow your roll Marco. Go home, be convincing, then get to Jean_. I hated how ‘be convincing’ meant lie more. This was a completely different side of me, frankly one I didn’t want to get accustomed to.

I got stuck in traffic on the way back for two hours, and I sat dead stopped for a good half hour of it. At about five I texted Jean, letting him know I planned on stopping by if not tonight, then tomorrow. He didn’t respond for another hour, and even then his only response was _‘mkay’._

It was way beyond six by the time I made it home and Mom was in the kitchen with Marissa making spaghetti when I walked in. Marissa’s dark hair followed her speedy movements as she clasped her tiny arms around my legs before I really had time to realize she was moving.

“Marco! Can you eat?” Large, hopeful brown eyes blinked up at me, and I was more than a little confused.

“Um, yeah? Don’t I always?”

“You didn’t last night…” she mumbled. Was she upset?

“Yeah, I had to stay over and help out Jean last night. I may have to again tonight. I was stopping home to drop some things off.”

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. I didn’t realize how dependant Marissa was on me until that moment when her eyes pooled with tears and she hastily wiped them away before they could fall. “I’ll miss you.”

Mom had an endeared look on her face as she saw the whole exchange, and Marissa’s arms tightened around my legs. I had no clue what to do, so I just patted her head softly.

“Will you take him some of my spaghetti?” she asked, earnestly looking up at me. I could practically see the halo above her pretty heart shaped head.

“Of course! I’m sure Jean would love that.” I doubted he’d fed himself since I’d left.

Mom moved to the tupperware cabinet and pulled out a small bin, filling it with the pasta before pulling me into one of her smothering parent hugs.

“You’re such a kind person, Marco. A special person.” she added the last bit with a hooded look before kissing my forehead. “Go on,” was all she said before giving me the all clear to run upstairs and grab my phone charger before heading out.

It was brisk and cool out, so I left all the windows down as I headed over to Jean’s house. The classic rock playing quietly on the radio made the whole scene nestle right into a comfortable spot in my brain. Eventually I got to Jean’s apartment complex and parked my car in the usual spot.

Now, from said usual spot, I can typically see through the space between the two apartment buildings as well as the fire escapes that ran along side both of them. I also, was never surprised if I heard someone shouting from inside an apartment; the fire escapes were usually always open. It was a fairly crime free spot in the city as far as I knew, so why bother being uptight about locking up, right?

I heard an ecstatic laugh from the seventh floor fire escape, followed by a yowl and a crash. Jean’s voice carried all the way outside down to the parking lot, as well as the series of curses I was positive the whole street could hear. I hit the seventh floor buzzer and practically skipped inside when the door unlocked almost immediately.

The first thing I noticed about the hallway was there were no more stuffed animals and flowers littering in the doorway. None at all. Not even a petal or piece of lint from a toy was left. Considering the mountain of stuff was there when I left, I wondered a little. _Jean must have thrown it all out or taken it inside_.

I knocked on the door and waited, chucking as I heard him trip over his own feet beyond the door.

“Coming!” his voice was muffled.

“Jean? What are you doing in there?”

“Uhm… arts and crafts.” _Huh?_

A moment later the door was yanked open, and there stood Jean in the same thing I’d left him in that morning. Sweats and a loose t-shirt. Only, his hair was disheveled and it looked like his shirt had been crumbled before being slipped back on.

“You look… uh…” my mind immediately jumped there. “Should I come back?”

_Did he have company?_

He searched my face for a second before realization dawned on him and his face shot up into a brilliant shade of tomato. “No! God no, Marco c’mon man!”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed. Full on, stomach cramped up laughed, and eventually Jean joined in with a few chuckles. It was good, because this way my face was red from laughing and not from second hand embarrassment. Or jealousy at the thought of someone else being in Jean’s bed.

 _Real it in Marco. Not now_.

I cleared my throat before asking, “What were you doing up here? I could hear you from the parking lot.”

“Could you really?” He didn’t second guess whatever instinct told him the fire escape was open before getting up and closing it. It was an eerily swift and clean motion.

I reached into my coat pocket (which just happened to be large enough for this) and pulled out Marissa’s spaghetti. “I come bearing gifts.”

His eyes danced from mine down to the food I presented. “Holy shit, nice! Did you make it?”

“Marissa and my Mom did. They wanted you to have dinner and Marissa was more than happy to share.”

Something flickered across Jean’s face, but it seemed like once I blinked it was gone. He was quiet for a minute before muttering a very heartfelt thank you into his lap. He ate quickly and fervently, literally appearing to inhale the noodles and not actually chew them.

“So, what did you want to stop by for? Other than the food, which is really good.” He said all that with a mouthful of spaghetti and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

I was super excited to show him, and I nearly ripped a hole in the stitching of my pocket as I jerked out the tiny flash drive. “This.”

He quirked one thin eyebrow at me and smirked. “A USB device?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ha ha. Common sense, it’s what’s on the drive. I went into my Dad’s work today and took a look at the older Survey Corp. records.”

His mocking grin faltered and he set down the tupperware container, attention focused solely on me now. “You _broke into_ the database?” His tone was anywhere between legitimate surprise and utter terror.

“Not really ‘broke into’, my Dad gave me his login. I just copied the archives.”

“The _entire_ archives?! Marco!” He shot up and began running his hands through his hair. “This is amazing! Marco you get this right? Everything I could possibly want to know is _in those files_! You just got me everything I’ve been looking for since-” He stopped pacing, which I hadn’t even realized he’d started doing and knelt down in front of me. It wasn’t something I’d had anyone do before. Y’know. Get eye level with me on their knees. I kept the butterflies in my stomach mellowed out and strictly professional as he stared at me and spoke.

“I owe you everything Marco, thank you so much.” His amber eyes sparkled and at that moment I knew everything had been worth it. Even the risk of getting caught later on was worth it.

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could help.” I smiled at him. He seemed to want to do something. Hug me maybe? The way he was shifting on the balls of his feet seemed to indicate he wanted to do something that involved touching, a handshake or high five. In the end, he just clenched his fists and stood up.

“I’ll go get my laptop,” he announced, and bounded into his room. From my spot on the living room I saw long spindles of fabric propped against the side wall in his room along with a pretty fancy looking sewing machine. I decided not to mention that, thinking it was some inside hobby he’d done with Nanna. Who knows?

He returned a moment later with his laptop tucked under his arm and a blanket slung over the other. He tossed the blanket at me and sat back down, seeming to accept that I hadn’t intended on leaving. Or maybe it was his own silent way of insinuating I would stay. He plugged the flash drive in, eyes wide as he skimmed through the information I’d pulled for him.

“Holy shit.”

I scooted closer so our shoulders were touching and peered at the screen. “What?”

“I knew what my dad was involved in, but the archives had everything else that was shut down. All the dead projects that got snuffed out.” He leaned forward and picked up his water glass, taking a sip with his eyes still trained on the laptop. My eyes flicked down to watch his adam's apple bob before quickly fixing them back on the screen.

“There’s an awful lot on regeneration,” Jean said more to himself than to me. His eyes were narrowed in focus, which to anyone seeing him for the first time would indicate he was irritated or angry. But I’d picked up on figuring that was just his concentrated face. His pointed nose was scrunched up as he read on and he chewed his tongue absentmindedly. His shoulders were hunched over which, believe it or not, brought out the lean muscles in his arms. The lighter part of his hair hung over his eyes but he didn’t seem to mind. I didn’t really know how to describe Jean’s appearance. Calling him handsome wasn’t the right word. Jean was handsome, but he was also beautiful. Strangely enough.

He turned and locked eyes with me, the focused look on his face dissipating only to be replaced by a softness that sent chills down my spine. His lips were parted slightly and this close to him, I could see they were chapped. Amber eyes flicked down to my lips for a split second before they were back on my eyes. He clamped his mouth shut and blinked a few times.

“Do… do you want coffee?”

I snapped out of the daze I was in and did my best to smile genuinely, nodding in agreement.

With an agonizing slowness he put the computer down and walked around the back of the couch so I couldn’t see him. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and slouched forward, running my hands through my hair.

_ What was I doing? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrighty this was a major surprise to write anything today. mondays are impossible for me so  
> i hope you all enjoyed the angst, there's more to come and then some and im fucking eager for it B)  
> next chapter features a lot more survey corp. info which should possibly clear up/introduce things


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Jean buildup that will tie a pretty little bow on Jean's soon-to-come shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8 fucking month hiatus and i hate myself deeply for it

I wasn’t going to deny what Marco had conveyed two hours earlier. I had been  _ painfully  _ aware of him staring at me, and for some reason, I broke the wall of obliviousness I’d set up and stared right back at him. His eyes had flicked up and down from my mouth to my eyes more times than I could count and I knew if I didn’t do something it was going to get awkward. 

In whatever way ‘awkward’ was implied. 

So, I’d offered him coffee. He had smiled and said yes, so I got him a cup, taking the time to rein in my own emotions. Marco had been there for me more than anyone else had my entire life, excluding Nana. The fact that he’d gone out of his way to bring me Survey Corporation archives really set the bar high for anyone else trying to weasel their way into my life. Not to mention it made my life much easier in terms of going on an information binge. 

Marco hung around for the rest of the day, and while I  _ was  _ grateful to him in every way, shape, and form, I was thrilled when he finally left. He droned on about a dance competition Marissa had over the weekend and it wasn’t until after he left did I realize I wouldn’t see him until Monday. 

After thinking it over for a long time I realized I was sort of… disappointed. This freckled do-gooder was ruining my life. 

It was a little past seven when I finally pulled my eyes away from the archives. I was on my fourth cup of coffee and my back was screaming at me in protest of the shitty position I’d shoved myself in to read. Sitting up slowly, I stretched and shut the laptop. The information I’d read up on suggested that all the research involving spider genetic mutations was a long term project that had in fact been shut down after my parents died. All the lab files that would have made things clearer were empty, and I figured out they were probably under heavier security on a different server. 

Everything about my new powers and about the Survey Corps was confusing the hell out of me, and I needed answers. I needed those lab files. 

I knew they would have what I needed, but my only problem was finding a way to get them. I hadn’t even known Marco had gotten me copies of the archives, and as grateful as I was I didn’t want him faced with any repercussions. Not to mention he said his dad worked there. No way was I letting his dad get  _ fired  _ for my own private investigator shenanigans. 

I padded into my room, noting that I was starting to smell. There were multiple ramen stains on my sweats from previous nights of reminding myself to eat and my hair was just plain in need of a wash. I checked my phone for any notifications and there were none, so I decided to kill time with a shower.

I ditched my clothes and headed into the bathroom, leaving the door open and setting the water to blazing hot so I could burn off the grime from days of vegging out. There was no doubt in my mind I’d need to thank Marco in a more official way for stealing confidential information for me. Most friendships came with bracelets or promises of murdering a shitty ex or something. Mine evidently came with a shit ton of angst and the need to commit amateur crimes. 

I stood under the water for what seemed like a half hour before I forced myself to actually clean myself. And clean I did; I smelled like a soap factory and probably would for days to come. 

Wrapping my towel around my waist, I walked out of the steamy bathroom and into my room. I’d need the official reports on Project Arachne, and the only way I could get them was if I went digging in the core. The room with all the spiders in it was most definitely  _ not _ a discontinued project. People were walking in and out of the room when I was there, so they were clearly still doing some kind of testing. There were definitely computers inside, it would be too weird not to see them in a room like that. 

I stopped in my tracks and mentally kicked myself in the head. What the hell was I thinking? Breaking into a massive company’s building to steal information? 

_ At least try to be professional about all this _ , I thought to myself. 

The information Marco had gotten for me held the location of the server it was all stored on. That included a brief layout of the server’s location. I could probably try to project that layout in a broader form and bypass a few walls here and there to get blueprints. Either that or I could find them online. Some businesses were lax with their construction information when they hired outside constructors to work for them. 

I’d have to devise a time for this. The place was clear; The Survey Corps building. I didn’t need to go straight away, which was good news for me considering I had no means of concealing my identity. Glancing at the mass of fabric I’d had yet to sew together, I figured I’d need at least a few days if not a week to finish it. 

My only problem that I could see clearly as of now was getting to and from the Survey Corps. I wasn’t positive I’d be able to get in and out in my own car, at least, not fast enough. Should I call a cab? No, that’s fucking stupid. Bad idea. 

There was always Marco…

I slammed that thought the hell down. I couldn’t involve Marco in this anymore than I already had. I felt bad enough dragging him into the mess that was my life to this point. I’d figure something out sooner or later, there was no rush to do it all now. 

The clock on my desk read eight thirty, so I slipped into a clean pair of sweats and a t-shirt and got to work on the spandex atrocity I’d started making for myself. I silently thanked God for keeping Marco out of my room earlier, because it would have been one hundred percent easier to explain my powers than it would be to explain a red leotard. Or whatever it was I’d started constructing. 

 

***

 

All of Saturday and Sunday was a royal mess. I heard from Marco only twice over the weekend, and I was actually grateful for that little break. Not because I was sick of his company, but because if he’d asked to come over I would have had to turn him down. 

There was spandex  _ everywhere. _

I needed to measure out an endless amount of the stuff, and to do that I’d spread everything out all over the living room and over the couch. Even down the hallway, and I had to be careful not to step on it when I walked out of my bedroom. It was like a shitty, red only version of Joanne’s Fabrics in here. 

Sunday night I’d received some call from my school administration, telling me that if I missed anymore school there was a chance I’d get kicked out all together. The lady had told me I could get them excused by having my parent call in and say I’d been sick or something. I’d laughed at that. Since I had no guardian to call in my absences and excuse them I was forced with a one sided ultimatum. 

Go to school or get kicked out of school. 

It was shitty that I even considered the later, but in the end my mind went to that cliche place all orphan minds go to. What would my mom want? What would my dad want? What would Nana want me to do? She’d want me to further my education of course, and work on not being so bitter all the time. 

But one step at a time was okay, so I decided Monday would be my first day back since walking Christa to campus. 

I didn’t realize that the hardest part of the day would be getting up. My phone alarm was set to go off at six, then six twenty, then six thirty, and so on so forth. I’m pretty sure I was finally up and getting coffee by seven fifteen, which was okay in my book even though it meant I’d be late to first period. I was left with enough time to get dressed and snatch an apple off the counter before I took off. Definitely late to first period. 

The walk to school was a familiar one, and I was suddenly more aware of a lot of stuff I’d overlooked before. The smells for the first few blocks were stronger near home, a lot like detergent and home cooked meals. Once I got out of the residential area it was messier everywhere you looked, and reeked of perfume. People waiting at the bus stop nearby were clammy and sweaty looking, but no one else seemed to notice it or just didn’t care. It was eerie how much I was truly aware of now that I had these abilities. I was sensitive to literally everything. 

The sound of the intercom clicking on three blocks away reached my ears, and I picked up my pace so I could hope to beat attendance from writing me off as a lost cause. 

There were a few students walking in late, and a couple others just chilling on the grass in front of the office. I walked past them and up to the attendance window where the same lady that was always there fixed me with a knowing look. 

“Did your parents call you in or is it an unexcused tardy?” Her nasally voice made me want to bash my head open with the window pane. 

“Unexcused,” I answered lamely. She quickly wrote down the time and date, then my name when I gave it to her and then slid me the pass. She pushed her cat eye glasses further up her nose despite her claw like acrylics stabbing her cheek as she did so. I walked down the hall as quick as possible to avoid her stink eye. 

There was only a couple minutes left in Physics, which was unfortunate considering Mr. Shadis was still to this day the only teacher I didn’t mind listening to. More or less, he was just easy to tune out. All the same, I knew I’d be faced with a terrifying scene; everyone seeing Jean fucking Kirschtein after what felt like weeks. I’d said it in the very beginning. I hate attention. 

At least from the people I went to school with. They were vicious people.

I walked up to the physics lab and didn’t hesitate as I pushed the door open. Figured there would be no use getting cold feet outside the class, so I’d just barrel in and get through it fast. Like a band-aid. 

Mr. Shadis glanced over at me mid-lecture and his eyes widened a bit. “Welcome back Mr. Kirschtein. Please take your seat.” 

I nodded and set the late slip on his desk as I walked around the last row of seats to get to mine. Everyone’s eyes seemed to follow me, and even Eren’s eyes were wide with curiosity and not narrowed with animosity. My nerves seemed to tighten, and I felt stiff and uncomfortable. 

Halfway to my seat I started to contemplate turning around and booking it out the door and back home. But a comforting pair of chocolate brown eyes found mine and crinkled at the edges in a smile. Marco nodded softly, as if silently beckoning me to make it the rest of the way. It was so utterly, heartwrenchingly kind and I realized just how wrapped around Marco’s finger I was after the past week. He was too kind to not expect the same devotion from a friend in return for his hourly good deeds. 

I pushed through the probing stares of my classmates and took my seat. Glancing back over my shoulder at Marco revealed he was still looking at me, but he gave me another smile and a thumbs up. I cocked a brow at him and turned back around in my seat, pretending to be indifferent to his praise for showing up to school. Part of me had been convinced I was only back because it’s what Nana would have wanted. But thinking about it differently made me realize maybe I’d come back for myself to. 

_ That’s sappy and poetic garbage Jean.  _ Yeah. I nodded to myself. 

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fished it out to see Marco’s name across the screen. 

_ You’re back! What prompted the sudden return? :D _

I twiddled my thumb a few times before deciding on a reply.  _ idk just felt like it _

An immediate response.  _ I don’t buy it, you wouldn’t come back for no reason… I mean, it’s school ;p _

_ tru. my truancy was gonna fuck up my invested 4yrs in this hell so i had to show _

Marco snickered behind me, and I turned slightly to stare at him out of the corner of my eye. He had his mouth covered lightly with his hand since he had his head propped on his palm. His free hand had his phone in front of him on the desk, and his eyes were narrowed at the screen which only made them sparkle since they were so dark. I don’t know how I’d never noticed before, but he had really long eyelashes…

He looked over at me finally and smiled, to which I gave him a thumbs up in return. With a bigger grin replacing the previous smile, he returned my thumbs up and went back to watching the board. I followed suit and tried to calm the shit down because my heart was racing faster than was probably healthy because Marco gave me a thumbs up back. That was hella nice. 

Ten minutes later the bell was ringing, releasing us from first period which I was almost a bit sad about. Marco walked straight up to me afterwards and was asking question after question and even apologizing before I could even stand. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come over this weekend! Marissa had a big project she waited to do ‘till last minute and I was helping her finish it. I should have probably called you Sunday night.”

“It’s fine dude, I was alright alone,” I slung my bag over my shoulder as I stood. “I got a lot of work done which is good. Thanks again by the way for your help.”

He smiled and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s no problem. I’m glad it helped. Hey, what class do you have next?” 

“English. Why?” 

“Can I walk with you? I go that direction anyways. It’s cool if no-”

“Marco, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, walk wherever you want.” My open reassurance and invitation to walk with me had the guy grinning from ear to ear. I did my best to ignore the blush I knew was creeping up my neck and turned to leave the room. 

“Bodt! You coming or what?” Eren was waiting by the front door of the classroom, glaring daggers at me and in turn looking at Marco with confusion. 

“I’ll meet up with you guys later,” he said, and brushed past me. “C’mon Jean.” 

I followed him, but his broad shoulders couldn’t hide the frustration Eren was clearly feeling. Was he for real salty about me hanging out with Marco? Eren had like hundreds of friends. That was the perk of being on the football team, so why did one person matter that much? 

Then again, if Eren was aware of what a precious gem Marco was then perhaps that’s why he was upset. He knew that Marco was spreading his happiness to the rest of the world, and Eren’s negativity couldn’t overshadow grim places like my head anymore. 

Marco and I walked in tandem with one another and made small talk on the way to class. I asked him what Marissa’s project was on, and I’d found out that she had to pick a historical figure to write about and she’d picked a T-rex. Apparently they were ‘relevant creatures just as much as old, dead presidents’ were. In the end Marco had been the one to finish the project because it was midnight and Marissa had fallen asleep. 

“Are you going home straight after school?” He asked once we were at my next class. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“My mom wanted to extend a dinner invitation to you, since I’ve been hanging out with you so much.”

“Do all your friends you hang out with get honorary Bodt Family Dinner invitations?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, but they know why I’ve been coming over so much so she’s sympathetic. Wants to tell you you’re welcome over anytime you want. So dinner can happen tonight or any other night that works for you.” 

I hesitated before responding and looked up at him. Marco was one of the most genuine people I’d ever met in my life. No doubt that his family was as kind as he was, otherwise how else could he just generally be so upbeat? It must be inherent. 

“Sure. I might have to run home to grab my skateboard but-”

“I can give you a ride!” he offered quickly. “It’s no biggy. Just find me after school in the lot.” 

I ran my fingers through my matted and unbrushed hair, and Marco’s eyes followed the action. In the end I agreed to meet him by the front office since it was around where he parked in the first place. English was boring, that much hadn’t changed since I’d been gone but my teacher did welcome me back with open arms. The next two classes went by in a daze, and thankfully no one approached me asking why I’d been gone. By the time lunch rolled around I was back in my usual area picking at the shitty mystery meat that even my powers couldn’t help to identify. 

“Hi Jean.” I looked up to see Armin holding his lunch tray beside my chair. “Glad to see you’re back. Can I sit?” 

I nodded and moved my chair over so he could set his bag down. He’d usually sit with me regardless of whether I gave him the okay or not, so the sudden permission card was disconcerting. “What’s up?” 

“I figured the long absence was because of something more personal than being sick. Are you alright?”

No asking what had happened, no guessing left and right. Armin was a cool kid who respected boundaries, and I think I’d always liked that about him. “Yeah, I’m fine. The break helped a bit. Still a sore spot though.” 

He nodded and popped a fry into his mouth. “I thought so. I’m glad you’re back though, Hannah has been asking nonstop if you’d be around soon to take some pictures of the upcoming rally. It’s on Friday and it’s supposed to celebrate the last football game of the season or something like that.” 

“She does know there’s an entire Photography Club she could get in touch with, right? Not just me?” 

Armin laughed and said, “Of course she knows. But she only likes your pictures, just like everyone else. I’ll take this as a yes, then?” 

“Sure I’ll do it. I’ll probably be here anyways.” I still hadn’t decided on a day to go to the Survey Corps building, and since my plan was still underway it was best if I just try to get back into the swing of things. 

He smiled over at me as he coated another fry in an overwhelming amount of ketchup. “Cool, I’ll let her know later. By the way, what did you do to Eren? He’s had his panties in a twist for a while now and keeps complaining about you.” 

Hearing Armin talk about panties in a twist was so unnerving, and I fixed him with a look to make sure he knew it. “I didn’t say anything to him. He’s probably all butthurt I’m hanging out with the only friend he has who’s nice to him just because he’s nice by default.” 

“Marco yeah? I figured as much. He’s blown off Eren a few times to go over to your house it sounds like.” 

What the hell? “How would you know that?”

“Eren and I used to be best friends. We sort of still are, but he’s always occupied with football and other things so we don’t really hang out anymore. He does come over sometimes to do homework though. Anyways, he told me last week that Marco’s been brushing him off to take you food or check in on you because you’ve been gone so long. Marco is one of Eren’s closer friends so it’s something that definitely bothers him.” 

“I didn’t tell Marco to cut ties with his other friends to hang out with me. If he did then that’s his business.”

Armin fixed his big blue eyes on me through his bangs, eyebrows raised in suspicion. “Is it all just because you’re dealing with stuff though? Seems to me he actually likes you.”

_ Yeah, he does. It’s painfully obvious _ . “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” 

I released my fork and it clattered against my tray loudly. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. He’s really nice so maybe he’s just a saint to everyone he meets.” 

Armin snorted and shrugged as if to say “ _ if you say so _ ”, but he was smarter than that and he and I both knew it. Marco liked me, and if I was being honest with myself and Armin, I liked Marco too. I’d made my fair share of friends over the years, but none had been so quick to warm up to my general bitchiness like Marco. That just made him all the more unique in my book. 

“Yikes, speak of the devil,” Armin muttered and looked back at his tray. Over his shoulder I saw Eren and his usual ragtag team heading towards our table, and I sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t start anything. One day with no bullshit, please.

“Kirschtein,” Eren started. From the tone of his voice I could tell this conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere pleasant. 

“Jaeger,” I retorted without thinking. Armin turned around in his seat and looked up at Eren, about to plead on my behalf. 

“Eren whatever this is about just let it go, there’s nothing-” 

“Armin please, just stay out of this.” Eren gritted out through clenched teeth, eyes never wavering from mine. 

I decided it would be best to get this over with quickly and stood up from my seat, the chair legs scraping on the floor loudly. A few heads turned in our direction and stayed glued to us, considering it was a group of football players ganging up on one somewhat known photographer.

“I don’t expect you to listen, but this is me telling you,” he jabbed his index finger into my sternum, “to back off of Marco. He’s a nice person, so he wouldn’t know how to tell you to quit bugging him without hurting your feelings.” 

Armin cast a worried look in my direction before looking back at Eren. He clearly wanted to help, but I knew this was officially between me and Jaeger. I straightened up beside my pulled out chair and did my best to look disinterested. Which wasn’t too hard considering I was  _ really  _ bored and frankly tired of dealing with Eren’s crap. He was an uptight brat who thought the sun itself should rise and set just for his pleasure. 

“If Marco wanted to leave me alone I’ve given him plenty of opportunities to. If he’s still hanging out with me it’s his business.”

“Step down off your high horse Jean. Or are you just  _ the _ high horse now? It’s hard to tell the difference now a days.” Reiner, one of the idiots who had followed Eren over to my table, started snickering behind his hand as if Eren was a natural born comedian come to cleanse the Earth of Jerry Springer. 

“I’m not his keeper Eren. Are you too dense to understand what I’m saying? I don’t control him.” I drew out every word, and all the while Eren’s face was getting redder and redder. His trademark temper was rising to the surface and before I knew it, he’d be lashing out. 

“Oh please, don’t pretend like you aren’t already groveling at his feet in return for his attention. Or are you on your knees at his feet instead, thanking him for giving you any shred of kindness and attention? That would make more sense. I always suspected you’d be the type to do that shit in some alley or some-” 

My fist cut him off before he could finish his sentence, though anyone within ten feet of us had heard exactly what he was planning on saying. I barely felt the impact at all, but Eren staggered back into Reiner and some other kid’s arms. He shot forward immediately afterwards, pulling his arm back to throw a punch that I  _ knew _ I wouldn’t have been able to dodge before now. 

I could practically see the moves he was making before he made them. Everything was in slow motion in my own head, but I still managed to move faster than everyone else with ease. 

I caught his fist in my hand and spun under it to kick him in the back of his knees, sending him crashing to the floor. The blind rage that I knew he was in was confirmed when he shot back up and started throwing out sloppy roundhouse kicks. I started ducking under and jumping over his legs as he tried, surprised that I was even agile enough to do this in the first place. A crowd had formed around us and I could hear the quiet murmur in the crowd building up to a full on chant. 

Go Jaeger or go Kirschtein was all that could be heard in the cafeteria, and I knew it would attract attention. 

I let myself get distracted by the horde of bodies, and in turn Jaeger managed to land a kick against my shoulder which sent me flying into the floor. I was winded evidently, and before I could get back up to defend myself he was on top of me throwing punches left and right. I took a few against my cheek and along my temple, but I blocked the worst of them until a surge of unexpected energy took over and I threw him off me. Eren toppled across the space, and I kicked my legs up and carried my body with it. I’d jumped back into fighting position and was back on offense before I could tell myself otherwise. 

He didn’t seem to agree, since he still came attacking even though he was wide open and I had the perfect shot. I reared my arm back and was inches from his face when a hand that didn’t belong to either of us was pushing my hand out of the way and moving in between us both. 

Marco appeared and acted as a wall, effectively stopping Eren in his tracks and myself from landing the hit the asshole deserved. 

“Stop- hey, stop!” He caught me around my waist as I attempted to leap around him at Eren. I fought against his hold, punching and kicking in Eren’s direction the best I could. But Marco’s arms were arms of steel, and I couldn’t get any closer to Jaeger with him here. “Jean, what the hell? Knock it off! You’re going to get expelled for this if they catch you.” 

“I don’t care, let me go Marco he deserves this and more, just put me down!” 

Marco turned so I wasn’t facing Eren anymore and practically threw me towards Armin, who was now standing at the edge of the crowd. Armin and Marco must have had linked minds at that moment, because Armin was quick to follow Marco’s lead and pushed me through the crowd towards the bathroom. I didn’t fight him, mostly because I knew I’d win and I didn’t want to hurt him, but also because I knew Marco would be guarding Eren. Even though he didn’t know Eren was a no good sac of shit with no respect for him. 

_ How could he bad mouth his friend like that? There’s no way he gave a shit about me hanging out with Marco that much, he just wanted to use it as an excuse to start shit. He wanted to rile me up using Marco. _

Fucking typical that I’d played right into his hands. That didn’t make any of the punches I’d landed worth it. He’d gotten what he wanted. 

Armin locked the bathroom door behind us and did a quick stall check to make sure we were alone before he turned on me. “Are you crazy?! You  _ just _ got back and now you’re getting into fights. What if you’d been caught?”

“I was caught,” I reminded him. Just not by faculty. 

He pursed his lips at me and shook his head. “This was not good Jean. You know he’s just trying to push your buttons.”

“Well it  _ worked! _ You heard what he said! How he was talking shit about Marco like he was nothing even though he supposedly cares about him enough to tell me to go fuck myself. That is  _ not  _ okay, and I won’t accept that.” 

“It’s not about what you can or can’t accept Jean, this could have serious repercussions. What if you do get expelled for this?” 

“I don’t care,” I blurted out. “I never cared. I didn’t even want to come back to this shit hole but I did anyways cause I know it’s what my fucking grandma would have wanted! She wouldn’t want me to not go to school, so I decided to go but that was clearly a mistake. Dead people don’t  _ want  _ anything because they’re dead.” 

Armin definitely had more to say, but a knock at the bathroom door had us both snapping out mouths shut. “Armin? It’s Marco, I know you’re both in here.” 

I waved Armin off as he gave me another knowing look and started pacing the length of the bathroom while he unlocked the door. Marco stepped inside and rubbed the back of his neck, sighing to himself. “It’s a mess out there.” 

“No doubt,” Armin agreed and looked back at me. I ignored him and kept walking to keep myself from bum rushing the door and running back home. “Do they know it was Jean?” 

“The whole room was chanting his name so I don’t think it’ll be hard for anyone to figure out he was in the middle of it.” The two talked amongst themselves as if I wasn’t even there for a good couple of minutes. Lunch was probably almost over, so they would have to shut up and disperse eventually. I’d go home immediately after and barricade myself inside my room for days to come out of frustration. 

Armin eventually left the bathroom, and Marco locked the door behind him and stood there a moment. “Jean,” Marco’s voice was quiet like he was trying not to startle an animal or something. Me in all my bitter annoyance just huffed and slumped against the wall next to the paper towel dispenser. 

“You don’t have to scold me, alright? I get it, I shouldn’t have done it. I never should do those kinds of things but I always do. So just drop it.” 

His hands curled into fists at his side, but his face remained impassive as he stared at me. I can’t really say what I was feeling, but it had me avoiding eye contact and staring at the floor instead of at Marco. 

“Jean, please look at me.” I clenched and unclenched a muscle in my jaw once. Twice. Then I looked at him. “I know why it happened, and I’m sorry he started any kind of fight with you because of me.” 

“No,” I started immediately. He wasn’t wrong that he’d been the topic of conversation before the fight broke out, but it sounded like he was blaming himself. “Marco it’s not your fault. He was an asshole, he was saying rude things and you don’t deserve anything negative said about you. No less from  _ him _ , he’s always been the living embodiment of a public toilet.” 

Marco’s laugh was pure and had my full, complete attention. “That’s a little harsh.”

“No it’s not. What goes around comes around, and not nearly enough came around for him.” 

“I didn’t realize you cared so much,” he admitted, unblinking as he stared down at me. 

I wasn’t going to play stupid at this point, I realized and recognized fully that I cared an awful lot for Marco. As a friend. Or maybe more. I didn’t know anymore. All I did know was that he was my first real friend I’d had in ages and he was better a better person than anyone could hope for. 

“I care. I always cared. Even though I’m evasive as fuck.” 

He laughed again and took a step closer to me, though it went pretty much unnoticed to me. “I’m glad then. I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t get thrown off by Eren. I want to keep talking to you even if other people don’t like it.” 

“Why wouldn’t they like it?”

He shrugged. “They’re territorial that way. And don’t like seeing happiness in other people.” 

“Now  _ that  _ seems a bit harsh.” 

“Maybe.”

I’d come to realize that with every passing sentence he’d come closer to me. I could lean forward and press my forehead against his if I wanted. But that was a random thing to do. There was no guarantee that he even wanted me to put my forehead on his forehead. 

“Jean…” he trailed off and seemed to gaze right through me. 

“Marco,” I said in return. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

My heart fell out my ass, I swear to God. My breath hitched in my throat and I seemed to get goosebumps over every part of my body. All the same, I didn’t move. This was much more than forehead pressing, and I really hoped he wasn’t messing with me. Because at this point I was putty in his hands, and I hopelessly nodded up at him with my heart racing in my chest. 

When his lips met mine, I decided that he tasted like Starbust. He almost smelled like it too, and I wondered briefly if he’d eaten some of the fruity candy before now. But when he deepened the kiss and pressed closer against me, I decided I didn’t care what he smelled or tasted like. Just that he was in front of me and caring and loving and  _ damn I was so gay _ . I didn’t know when it had happened, I never considered being gay but I was never opposed to it, and now that I knew one hundred percent that I was gay for Marco-fucking-Bodt I felt better than I had in weeks. 

I inhaled sharply as I ran my fingers up through the back of his hair and pulled, resulting in him bracing himself against the wall behind me with his free arm. The other one was on my neck, then sliding across my chest, then to the back of my head pulling me close. All the while I was biting his lip and trying to press my hips further and further away from his because I could feel the absolute hard on I had obtained against my pants. 

It was him who finally broke away to catch his breath, and he stared at me wide eyed for a second before resting his forehead on mine. “Wow… that was…” 

“Cool?” I suggested, and he gave a throaty laugh that made my toes curl. He was like a nonchalant Sex God or something. 

“Yeah, cool. I didn’t really think you’d let me.” 

“I didn’t either.” 

“I’m glad you did though,” he added quickly.

For the moment, I got to pretend like I wasn’t going to get kicked out of school for fighting. I got to pretend that I wouldn’t have to break into a heavily fortified lab to steal top secret information that was linked to my parents’ deaths and my newfound powers. I didn’t think about Nana or how awful the past month had been. None of it came to mind.

Gross as it may be, being in a public high school restroom with Marco was the best place I could hope to be in this moment. Everything else could wait. 

And I was  _ finally  _ okay with that after months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am sorry. i am so sorry.   
> 8 months is a long time to wait and i recognize that completely, im torn up about taking that long in the first place :(  
> i promise to not be gone that long anymore. im trying to plan out the rest of this story so i can just update on a schedule instead of free lancing everything through 8 month intervals   
> im not opposed to anyone bitter about the wait hitting me with their car :') i have it coming.   
> thank you to those of you who are still interested in Spidey Senses, it means the world that some of you still care at all   
> <3 comments/kudos forever appreciated and remembered fondly（；へ：）

**Author's Note:**

> i actually started this back in october of 2014 but it got lost in the abyss that is my folders  
> more to come soon (hopefully)


End file.
